Stuck!
by kolyaaa
Summary: Annoying McKay is turned into a child while Teyla is aged in an accident. There are cuddly scenes, banter, insults, vomit, pink shoes, Wraith attacks, headaches, cool toys, infirmary scenes. Everything a human could ask for and more.
1. 2:Bite Your Tongue

**Stuck!**

Author: Kolyaaa!

Disclaimer: Stargate: Atlantis and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story was created for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of Kolyaaa.

Category/Rating: GEN/T

Chapters: 20

Characters: Everyone

A/N: L.E. Posted this challenge to the SGAHC yahoo group While offworld Rodney is turned into a child...aged about 4-8. Old enough to talk and walk. He instantly latches onto John, and Teyla but only because she has chocolate she uses to calm him down. Once back on Atlantis they discover that Rodney has the power to manifest whatever he wants (If he wants his favourite teddy bear it appears.) He then during a nightmare manifests a Wraith, he doesn't know how to get rid of it and anytime they try to shoot the Wraith Rodney is hurt. It didn't say anything about his mind being at a four year old level, however...

A/N: This story takes place sometime after "Lost Boys"

[{O}]

**Chapter One: A Scowl Like a Thundercloud **

"Gah! Get it off me! Get it off me!"

Dr. Rodney McKay hopped across the cobblestone path, shaking his leg in a frantic attempt to dislodge the object clinging to his shin.

There was a momentary lull as all eyes in the village square turned to watch the spectacle. McKay flailed his arms at his teammates, awaiting rescue. All he got in response were unsympathetic smirks from Sheppard and Beckett, a pained diplomatic smile from Teyla and an unblinking stare from Dex, before the latter returned to demolishing the buffet table the villagers had set up to welcome the team and the chief medical doctor.

McKay glowered, gauging the distance to the food and weighing it against the effort he'd have to expend to get there. Grunting, he dragged and hitched himself closer to the skewered roasts and heaps of glazed pastry, trying to ignore the squeals of glee coming from somewhere in the vicinity of his knee.

He fetched up against the table and lunged for a pastry, only to have the plate snatched away by Dex, who crammed two of the last three desserts into his gaping maw. McKay opened his mouth to howl a protest, then froze in slack-jawed shock as the shaggy warrior crouched down to offer the final pastry to the toddler who had attached herself to McKay's leg ten minutes after they arrived on the planet and hadn't relaxed her grip since.

"Bweee!" she shrieked, holding out a pudgy fist toward the treat. McKay made an abortive attempt to shake her off while she was distracted, but stopped when Dex growled. The little one stuffed her face, belched, then wiped her sticky hands on McKay's leg. Dex beamed at the creature.

McKay recoiled. "Oh, ugh. Would you look at-Colonel!" He whirled and stomped away, trying to ignore the high-pitched giggles every time he stomped his left foot.

"Off, off, off," he chanted, hopping impatiently up to Sheppard. "Come on, this thing isn't going to detach itself. We're going to need a pry-bar and a block and tackle of some sort. Or maybe one of those packets of salt from the emergency kits."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Rodney," he drawled. "It's a child, not a slug."

"Easy for you to say. It's not leaving a trail of slime on your trousers." McKay glared down at the melon-headed moppet drooling on his knee. The child smiled sweetly up at him, big brown eyes shining with adoration.

"I wuv oo," it said.

Sheppard caught the expression on McKay's face and took a cautious step back from the scientist.

"I think that's our cue to leave," he said, turning his best smile on the village elders. "Er, which way did you say it was to the Ancestors' Hall of Healing?"

[{O}]

The hike up a twisting mountain path gave McKay plenty of time to vent his feelings about children, child-rearing, the vanishing concept of personal space and the impossibility of finding decent dry cleaners in the Pegasus Galaxy. He'd just gone off on a tangent about homemade stain removers when the team rounded a bend and got their first good look at the ruined Ancient outpost.

"Oh my," McKay breathed out, rant forgotten.

The outpost - a cutting-edge medical research facility, according to the Ancient database back on Atlantis - had once been a sprawling complex of high white walls and soaring spires. The woods had grown up and around, swallowing most of the grounds, but the trees and the vines couldn't completely cover the scorch marks and blast scars that marred the rubble.

Ten thousand years of neglect hadn't destroyed this outpost. The Wraith had.

Sheppard took point, weapon at the ready, as the group moved cautiously toward the main building. The front courtyard was dotted with twisted heaps of wreckage, barely recognizable as Wraith darts. On the outskirts of the compound, he could make out the high towers that had once manned anti-aircraft guns, not unlike the ones Caldwell had installed on Atlantis.

The scientists had put up one hell of a fight before the end.

He paused at the arched front entrance, trying to ignore the way McKay and Beckett were crowding behind him, peering impatiently over his shoulders. Before the Ancients fled Atlantis, theyd stripped the city of every piece of medical equipment that wasn't bolted down. Before them sat a building once packed with miraculous medical devices. The scientists, Beckett in particular, were beside themselves, almost dancing with impatience to get in there and poke around.

He took a step inside, recognizing the familiar stained glass and brass accents of Ancient architecture peeking through the vines and drifted leaves. He was half expecting the lights to come on and the outpost to hum to life the way Atlantis had, but there was nothing. Just shadows, moss and mold.

McKay and Beckett elbowed past him and headed deeper into the room, talking excitedly at each other and over each other. Teyla and Dex followed at a more sedate pace, alert for danger.

Still talking, the doctors stopped short at a sealed inner door and McKay set to work, ripping off the control panel and fiddling inside, trying to jimmy the lock. Sheppard moved to follow and almost tripped over a shapeless lump on the floor. He toed the mossy obstruction, sidestepping quickly when part of it rolled free; revealing bleached white bone and a jagged row of razor-sharp teeth.

"Got it!" McKay whooped from the other side of the room as the inner door hissed open.

Sheppard nodded, still frowning down at the grinning Wraith skull at his feet.

[{O}]

"It's still here," Carson Beckett whispered, staring wide-eyed around at the rows of hospital beds, surrounded by banks of diagnostic equipment. Beckett darted from one piece of medical equipment to another, brushing at the thick dust that carpeted everything, his eyes shining like a kid on Christmas Day. "Damned if I know what any of it's supposed to do, but most of it looks intact. Look, Rodney, does this look like a portable-"

Sheppard tuned out the technobabble and ambled over to join Dex, who was peering down at a mummified corpse tucked into one of the hospital beds.

Dex flipped back a blanket that crumbled to dust at his touch. "Look," he said, nodding to the gaping wound on the patient's chest.

Sheppard swallowed hard, wondering if the Wraith had fed on the victim before he was brought into the medical bay, or after. He had uncomfortable visions of Wraith drones feeding on the helpless patients as they fought their way across the long hall. He looked around, noting other blanket-shrouded patients, and fallen bodies, Wraith and Ancient, on the floor.

"Why didn't the Wraith destroy this place afterward?" he wondered aloud.

"Could be they fought to a draw," Dex said. "Doesn't happen often, but I've heard of it."

Teyla nodded thoughtfully. "The Wraith would have dispatched a destroyer, had any of their warriors returned. And surely the Ancestors would have remained to tend the dead, had they been able."

Excited babble broke out on the other side of the room, drawing everyone's attention to McKay and Beckett and a peculiar alien device that arched across two beds, with a control panel in between.

A control panel that had just flared to life under Beckett's hands.

[{O}]

"What did you do?" McKay demanded, delighted and alarmed all at once.

"Nothing! I didn't do anything!" Beckett snapped back, his accent thickening with alarm as more and more multi-colored switches and toggles flickered on a control panel he couldn't even begin to decipher.

McKay was watching avidly. "This room must have some sort of auxiliary power source."

"Aye," Beckett agreed, distracted by the humming noise now coming off the device. "Any good hospital keeps a back-up generator on hand for emergencies."

McKay elbowed the doctor aside and peered down at the control panel, keeping one eye on the readings scrolling across his hand-held data device.

Beckett backed away until his hip hit the bed behind him. He grimaced down at the corpse. Its cobwebby hair spread across the remains of a pillow and its brittle finger bones curled across the hand-shaped wound on its tunic front. Mouth twisted in distress, he turned to study the figure on the other bed. Oddly, this one was in restraints, its wrists, torso and legs strapped down tight, its head-

"Oh Lord," Beckett breathed, staring at the faceplate of a long-dead Wraith drone, strapped into an Ancient diagnostic bed. "Rodney? What do you make of this?"

Before McKay could reply, the machine's humming escalated in pitch and every light on the control panel blinked green. The team froze as beams of coruscating light shot out of the device above each bed and began scanning the occupants. First the Ancient, then the Wraith.

"This is bad," McKay said, staring wide-eyed as the machine gave off an unhappy-sounding bleat at the end of its scan. There was a moment's pause and the beam above the Ancient's bed widened, then honed in on McKay, scanning him from scalp to toe as he repeated the litany: "Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad!"

"How do we turn it off?" Sheppard snapped, taking aim at the device, but afraid to shoot while it still had McKay pinned. He circled around, trying to get closer.

"I don't know!" Beckett slapped frantically at the control panel. "Turn off, you bloody toaster!" Teyla dashed in and caught his arm, trying to draw him away. He shrugged her off, refusing to leave Rodney.

The second beam flared, abandoning the Wraith corpse and honing in on Teyla. Beckett swore and tackled her, trying to knock her to safety, but the beam caught them both.

Dex let out a roar and leveled his blast pistol at the device as the light flared brighter and brighter.

"Don't!" Sheppard started to call out, but Dex was already squeezing the trigger. The machine blew apart in a shower of sparks. McKay, Teyla and Beckett's screams were lost as the device let out a piercing feedback shriek and pulsed one last time, whiting out everything in the room.

The next thing Sheppard knew, he was on his hands and knees, groping across the floor, yelling for his team. His eyes watered and swam with afterimages of the explosion.

"Rodney?" he called, coughing as smoke poured out of the shattered control panel. He could hear Dex blundering around nearby, getting to his feet and staggering around, calling for Teyla and Beckett.

C'mon, McKay," he tried again. "Talk to me."

His fingertips brushed across familiar SGA uniform fabric and his hand closed over an empty sleeve. When had McKay taken off his jacket? He tugged it closer, frowning at the odd weight of the thing-too heavy to be an empty jacket, far too light to be McKay.

He reached for the bundle and recoiled as it whimpered softly. The hell? He poked the fabric-wrapped lump. It squeaked and flinched away from him. Thoroughly alarmed now, he peered down the neckhole of the jacket and found himself nose-to-nose with a very small boy. A very small boy with brown hair, blue eyes and a scowl like a thundercloud.

[{O}]

**Chapter Two: Bite Your Tongue **

Alarmed, Sheppard took his eyes off the kid and glanced about frantically. "McKay!" he shouted. Where the hell did the damn scientist go? Where did this kid come from? What was going on? "McKay!"

How did the kid get in McKay's jacket! Sheppard had no time for this!

The huddled boy grimaced, and squeaked out, "You don't have to yell." The kid tried to raise his hands to his head, but was bewildered by the sleeves that entrapped his arms in too much fabric. "No shouting. I've got the mother of all headaches." He curled up pathetically in the jacket, wincing as he closed his eyes tightly. "Give a man a break!"

"Where did you come from?" Sheppard insisted, his voice a little harsh for someone so small – but he was seriously freaked out. "Where's Doctor McKay?" But he wasn't even looking at the kid as his gaze sought out the missing scientist.

"What the hell are you talking about?" the kid returned sharply. "Did the flash blind you?"

Near him, Sheppard heard Dex's startled intake of breath. John glanced up, seeing the man reach the area where Teyla and Beckett had fallen. Ronon's eyes were wide as he holstered his weapon.

"Ronon?" Sheppard questioned sharply, his hands still clutching onto Rodney's appropriated jacket, "What's going on?"

"Teyla…" the runner broke off, unable to express what he'd found. His bass voice seemed to have left him and he went to his knees beside the Athosian, calling her quietly, the concern evident in his tone.

Beside him, Beckett pressed himself into an upright position, looking dazed but otherwise unhurt. "Bloody hell," the doctor grumbled, rubbing his eyes, and wincing.

Sheppard met Ronon's eyes – seeing shock and confusion.

"What the hell's going on?" the adorable little pip-squeak complained, echoing Sheppard's own thoughts. "Would you let go of me?" the kid in his grasp grumbled, twisting within the oversized jacket and attempting to free himself.

Sheppard let loose the jacket and stretched to see Teyla, ready to go in search of Rodney. Teyla groaned, sounding weak and worn out.

Carson had snapped out of his shock and was, in a quick movement, crouching beside Ronon, muttering in disbelief. Doctor-mode kicked in. "It's all right, lass," he tried to console. "Everything's gonna be all right." And he grasped her arm, talking her pulse. Sheppard's gaze fastened on her arm-wrinkled and thin.

"Teyla, how're you feelin'?" Beckett asked quietly.

Sheppard sat up further, trying to see around Ronon-finally catching sight of what was going on. Teyla slowly turned her head toward the Colonel-her hair white as snow and her face lined with years.

What the…?

"Teyla," Beckett repeated urgently.

"Tired." Teyla's voice creaked like an old door. "Weak. But I am in no pain." It was impossible. Where moments ago, she'd been a vibrant warrior-Teyla Emmagan was withered to an old biddy.

Sheppard felt the blood leave his face as figured it out. No… no… it couldn't be!

He spun around toward the kid, finding little more than the top of his head visible within the oversized jacket as the child fought with the material. He snatched at the child, grasping him by one shoulder and turning him to see his face – familiar in spite of the youthfulness. Confused blue eyes glared at him.

"Colonel?" the voice, high with emotion, cried, "Did that Neanderthal actually fire his 'wonder gun' at the device while it had me and the others in its beam? I can't believe he had the lack of foresight to do such a thing." A snort. "No, strike that. I should have figured it. What did he do to me?" The boy, who looked no more than four, fretted about, messing with his clothing, seeming to be sizing himself up. "I shrunk!" he piped - alarmed. "Look at me! I've been miniaturized!" Held out his hands, his expression a jumble of worry and outright panic. "It's like someone's perverse idea of the 'Fantastic Voyage'!"

"Miniaturized?" Sheppard regarded this idea – taking in the obvious child-like features, the oversized head. Oh God, this was seriously warped. "Not so much miniaturized as…"

"The others?" McKay suddenly stated, looking about. "Teyla and Carson. Are they okay? They were in that beam, too. Were they …" He held his little finger and tiny thumb a few inches apart. "… miniaturized?" He caught sight of Ronon and Beckett, both looking at him with astonished expressions. "Ah, Carson. You're fine then?"

Carson offered no response outside of a little sound way in the back of his throat as he opened his mouth.

Rodney frowned, but seemed to accept the dumfounded reply. "Teyla?" he continued. "She's okay, right? She didn't get shrunk like me?" And he twirled about one little hand to indicate himself as he sought Sheppard.

Unable to say anything, John nodded toward Teyla.

A cute little frown creased the boy's features as he turned toward the last of their group. "Who's the old… oh…" Comprehension filled his overly large eyes, as he gazed at the old woman.

Teyla stared back at him with the same look of astonishment. "Doctor McKay," she croaked as she pressed herself upright. Ronon and Beckett leaned in to help her.

"If she's been turned into an old lady, then… No… no… no…!" Rodney clambered to his feet, unsteady. "I'm not… Colonel, tell me… it didn't happen!"

Unable to believe what he was looking at, Sheppard found himself eye-to-eye with Dr. Rodney McKay – genius – self-proclaimed 'smartest man in two galaxies'-and he never left his sitting position. Sheppard fought to comprehend this-why were insane things always happening around him?

He tried to wrap his mind around it-Teyla was an old woman with skin like leather-and Rodney was a child with a head as big as a melon. Sheppard wanted to haul ass and get the hell out of here. It was Rodney's frightened, freakish, child-like look that stilled him.

"Rodney," Sheppard said, fighting to keep calm, to not betray the voice in his head that shouted out how unbelievably weird this was. "Something happened to you and Teyla with that beam."

Rodney narrowed his eyes, and put chubby hands on his hips. "Obviously," he snapped.

"You've been turned into a…"

"NO! Don't say it! I refuse to hear it…"

"An adorable little nugget of a boy." Sheppard found himself smiling at the expressions that galloped over McKay's face.

"Gah!" The exclamation exploded from the boy. "It's my worst nightmare!" he cried.

Beckett scrambled to Rodney's side, peering at the boy in disbelief. "Good God in heaven," he breathed out. "This boy is Rodney? This wee little bairn is …"

"Don't call me that!" Rodney snapped. "Never call me that!" The boy crossed his arms over his chest, which did nothing to intimidate any of them because he looked too damn cute.

Beckett went down on one knee to look the boy in the eye. "Are you feelin' all right, Rodney?" he asked sincerely.

McKay's upper lip lifted in an attempt at a sneer. "Except for a pounding headache and a strange draft…" his voice trailed off and, red-faced, Rodney snatched the trousers that were bunched around his feet. Not as if it mattered-the jacket came down below his knees. He pulled up his pants and gripped the waistband to his stomach. "This is not happening… this is not happening…" he repeated earnestly. He extended one arm-the sleeve overshooting his wrist to drape over his hand. "Take my pulse, or something, Carson! Fix this!"

Beckett did as asked, pushing back the sleeve to find the wee wrist.

'What's wrong with us?" Rodney asked plaintively, his voice breaking hearts with its innocent tremor.

"I dunno, Rodney," Beckett responded, going silent as he did his work, and patting the back of the hand once he finished his count. "I need to get them back to medical… now!" Beckett declared to Sheppard. "They seem to be okay for the time bein', but I can't tell anythin' here." He paused, closing his eyes a moment before he turned toward Teyla. His eyes filled with concern as he watched her.

The Athosian sat, looking brittle and worn, a stony expression on her face. She blinked at them slowly, attempting to remain composed, but her eyes revealed a consuming anxiety, a terrible bone-deep fear.

Ronon moved to pick up the fragile looking woman, but Teyla declared in her whispery voice, "I will walk." Still, she allowed Ronon to help her get to her feet-he assisted with remarkable gentleness.

Sheppard steeled himself, getting ready for the weirdness of everything, then made a move to scoop up the tiny version of McKay. The kid backed away from him, flapping his hands about at any attempt to grab him. "I can walk, too!" the kid declared shrilly.

"Okay then," Sheppard shot back. "Get movin'." Unable to stop himself, he gave the boy a whap on the behind.

McKay fumed. "Don't!" he ordered. "Don't try that again!" Clutching his pants to his chest, he glanced about for his boots. He set them upright, pulled up his socks, then stepped easily into them-not needing to undo the laces. He sank in to his knees. Then, shoving his sleeves up to his elbows he gave a haughty nod, declaring he was ready to go.

Hardly able to fathom the situation, Sheppard lifted a hand, indicating that McKay should go ahead. Teyla was already moving up the hallway, leaning on Ronon with Beckett at her other side. The doctor glanced back at them-looking worried, mystified and utterly lost.

McKay took one step, his boot catching on his overlong pant leg, and he stumbled. Arms shot out as he struggled to catch his balance, but the clothing-far too large for him-caught-pants dropped-and he was instantly entangled. He would have fallen face first in a jumble, if Sheppard hadn't swooped down, grabbing him firmly under the armpits and hoisting him up. McKay had hardly any time to grab for his pants, and how the boots stayed on his feet was a mystery.

Clasping the boy to his chest, Sheppard held him close and strode forward to catch up with the others.

"Mortifying," McKay mumbled.

"God, you have boney knees. Can you at least move them out of my stomach. Wrap your legs around me, would ya?"

"Humiliating," McKay responded, doing as he was asked, unfolding one leg, and then another, scrunching up toes in an attempt to keep the boots.

"Haven't you ever carried a kid?" Sheppard griped.

"No! I have not," Little McKay responded sharply. "I think we've gone over this before. I don't like kids and they don't like me."

Sheppard recalled the child in the settlement who wouldn't let go of the physicist. "Put your arms around my neck," Sheppard spoke in the boy's ear as he walked.

"I will not!" McKay shot back.

"Do it, McKay. It'll make this easier on both of us. I'm not going to carry you around like luggage. You have to do your part. Be a good little boy and hold up some of your weight."

With a discontented sigh, Rodney pulled his arms out of their cramped position, and dutifully wrapped them around Sheppard's neck. "I hate you," he grumbled.

"I hate you, too," Sheppard responded with a grin, freeing one hand to ruffle the tyke's hair. McKay growled like an angry terrier.

[{O}]

They'd garnered strange looks as they passed through the town on their return trip to the gate. The drooling, pastry-stealing, leg-hugging, slug-child had skipped up to them when they'd approached-looking as if she was ready to latch onto someone like a lamprey on a salmon. Her face beaming with the anticipation of climbing Mt. McKay again-but the joyful look fell as she saw the different team members.

"Aaah Tahh!" she bawled, fisting her little hands until the slimy members turned white. "Aaaaahhh Tahhhh!" Whether the words meant-'where is my favorite climbing tree and personal transportation system that I occasionally utilize as a large napkin?' or 'who is that kid and why is he making faces at me?'-it was impossible to say. Either way, her screams were loud and annoying-and her response gained a satisfied chuckle from McKay.

Sheppard gave him a poke. "Behave yourself, young man," he said in a low voice.

Rodney's response to that was a simple, "Screw you."

In response, Sheppard jogged the rest of the way to the gate, letting McKay's chin bang into his shoulder. Rodney protested, but it did no good.

They waited for Teyla and the others at the DHD. Sheppard sent through his IDC, and radioed through that they needed a medical team-that something had 'happened'. Honestly, he was reluctant to say more at that point, and he cut off the transmission when McKay started to jabber in his ear, demanding to be let down.

The others arrived and they hurried through the event horizon. Elizabeth came down to meet them, her face instantly drawing into a puzzled expression. She glanced from Sheppard to Ronon to Beckett. Her eyes narrowed, perhaps seeking Rodney and Teyla. Sounding cordial, she stated, "You've brought guests?"

"It's a little complicated," Sheppard responded, trying to control the unruly child in his arms.

Weir offered the elder a smile and uttered, "Welcome to Atlantis."

The old woman started to speak, but instead coughed unpleasantly. Ronon was instantly with her, supporting her as Beckett came to her side.

Elizabeth knitted her brow as the boy in Sheppard's arms continued to fidget.

"I toad you!" the boy complained. "I wanned to walk frew da gate on my own!" He shook his head sharply, grimaced and muttered, "All dat runnin awound by you! I bit my tongue, damn it!"

"Just trying to make things easy," Sheppard returned to the little guy. Then the child twisted about like a puppy on speed. "OW! For the love of…! Damn it!" Sheppard let the kid slip from his place and the boy stumbled as he landed. "Try doing you a favor and…Jeez!"

The kid spun about, and looked up as Weir stepped forward, crouching to meet the child. "Hello," she said, making her voice happy. "My name is Dr. Weir." She smiled widely and openly. "And what's your name?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Elithabef," he stated, frowned severely and started again, speaking slowly and distinctly. "E-liz-a-beth. We've got problems. Big problems." And he stumbled forward, looking annoyed as hell. With few clumsy movements, he kicked his way out of his cumbersome boots and continued toward the control center in his too loose socks, nearly tripping on those as well. "We need to assemble a team and get back there. We need to discover everything we can about that device. I'm taking Zelenka and ah… who's the guy with the fountain-pen fettish? Always has one in his pocket. Stains everything?" He poked at his chest with one hand as if his breast pockets weren't currently at stomach level. "Where does he expect to find more ink?" And he clutched at his pants as he shrugged.

Weir's lips parted in her astonishment as the boy continued, his voice high and childlike – but the patter was unmistakable. "Rodney?" she whispered. She pivoted her gaze, suddenly able to recognize Teyla. "Oh my God," she said quietly.

Around them, the personnel in the gate room watched in confusion- not hearing-not understanding what was going on.

Rodney jammed the tops of his pants under his armpits as he tried to snap his fingers and popped a hand against his fist, but the result was unremarkable, and obviously annoyed the kid. "Chop chop!" he exclaimed. "Let's get going!"

"Before we go doin' that," Beckett cut off the little man. He nodded to Teyla who was slumped now against Ronon. "We're headin' to medical so we can get them checked out."

"Better line up yourself, Doc," Sheppard said. "That beam hit you, too."

Beckett looked miserable, his eyes pinched. "Aye, that it did." He sighed. "There's no tellin' what sort of mischief it's doin' to all of us. We'll get this checked out. Let's go." And he led the way toward the medical department.

Rodney scowled as Sheppard clapped a hand to his shoulder, turning him toward the infirmary. "One good thing," the boy said in a low voice, tripping a little as he stepped on a sock. "Beckett didn't get turned into an old man. Imagine having to hear about his leaky bladder, bad prostate and old man gas."

"I heard that!" Beckett snapped from somewhere ahead of them.

Rodney snickered happily at that response, and gave Sheppard a grin as he shuffled along on his way to the infirmary in his unwieldy clothing.

[{O}]

A/N: This story is good. Take it from a Genii who knows good writing when he reads it. Of course, I've read little more than Genii Recruiting pamphlets for the Special Services, but that is mighty fine reading..


	2. 3:Mini McKay

**Stuck!**

[{O}]

**Chapter Three: Mini-McKay**

Colonel, did you bring the wee terror with you? Beckett asked over his shoulder as he and Biro collected blood tubes and various vacutainer needles from open shelves.

Dr. Biro held her tongue as she watched her boss squint his eyes in discomfort as he gazed over shoulder into the brighter section of the infirmary.

Ronon stood beside Teylas bed. The Athosian lay curled quietly on her side under a thin crocheted hospital blanket. Her long white hair splashed in unruly tangles over the pillow to blend almost seamlessly with the white sheets of the bed. Her eyes were closed in near sleep and the deep lines that crossed her face lessened, smoothing away some of the shallower wrinkles that had creased her once beautiful features.

Im right here, A small irritated voice piped up unseen somewhere beside Sheppards hip. Not like Im going anywhere fast.

Come on, McKay, let's not keep Beckett waiting, Sheppard sing-songed, keeping hold of the back collar of the scientists oversized coat and directing him none to gently around the infirmary beds toward the back section where the others waited.

I can walk on my own, thank you very much, Rodney spat as he tried to wrestle his way free of Sheppards grip while still trying to keep his pants bunched in one pudgy fist.

His mouth has not shrunken any, Ronon noted from beside Teylas bed.

Luck is fickle, Beckett offered. The doctor narrowed his eyes as he stared at Sheppards pockets. Colonel? Are those Rodneys socks in your pocket?

He kept tripping over them, Sheppard smiled and ruffled McKays head much to the annoyance of scientist, and we dont want the little guy here to fall down and hurt himself.

Beckett let out a quick breath and shook his head. Oh God, no, not that, he hastily agreed.

I can hear, you know, Rodney snapped back. He tossed an awkward elbow at Sheppard in attempt to free himself of the larger mans hold. The colonel merely twisted the coat collar a little tighter, easily manipulating McKays much smaller frame to such an angle that the elbow missed.

Eh, eh, eh, Rodney, Sheppard warned, or youll get a time out.

Beckett and Biro chuckled as they put their gathered supplies on a tray. The double boarded pathologist/ internist noted the CMOs squinting.

Head bothering you, Carson? Biro asked in a quiet whisper in an attempt to keep the conversation between them at the moment.

Aye, wee bit of a headache, jist in the background, nothin serious, he replied, not raising his eyes from the cart as he started pushing it toward the others.

Biro, a step behind, merely nodded, not believing a word of it.

Up you go, Rodney, Sheppard chuckled as he reached down and lifted McKay onto one of the beds.

I could've done it myself, McKay harrumphed, crossing his arms indignantly over his chest and slouching into the jacket, nearly disappearing from view within the folds of the coat.

Hes going to need clothes, John said, leaning against Teylas bed, facing McKay.

Aye, that may be a problem; I dont know of anyone on Atlantis the size of our Little Rodney. Beckett let a full dimpled grin spread across his whiskered face as McKay glared back at him.

Hes almost likable when hes angry, Ronon pointed out.

Bite me, McKay snapped back.

Best be careful, Rodney, Beckett warned, You are about bite size yourself.

He is, isnt he? Sheppard turned his head to the side scrutinizing the astrophysicist. Hes kind of like a mini-Milky Way or mini-Snickers, Sheppard offered.

Mini-McKay, Beckett helpfully filled in following the natural progression of the thought.

Sheppard snapped his fingers, Yeah, a mini-McKay. The Colonel stared at the shrunken Canadian, Miniaturized McKay. Sheppard furrowed his brow in concern. Damn youve got a huge melon on your shoulders. The colonel turned his attention to the two doctors. Are you sure his neck can support that monstrous cantaloupe head of his?

Oh please, will you stop, just stop, Rodney snapped. You are all enjoying this too much! Carson , arent you suppose to be running tests or some other voodoo magic."

Aye, of course, but you know its been a few years since my stint in pediatrics. Carson tapped his lab coat pockets. I dont think I have any lollies to give you, Rodney.

Rodney narrowed his eyes, wrinkling his brow and unconsciously raising his upper lip in a snarl as he glared balefully at the doctor.

Ahh, Doc, I dont think thatd be necessary, Sheppard offered. I doubt Rodney here knows how to behave.

Oh, right, probably true. Beckett rubbed at his forehead closing his eyes for a second.

Dr. Biro stepped forward. We are going to draw a couple of vials of blood from you, um, Dr. McKay, Teyla and Carson. The pathologist smiled hesitantly, tripping over McKays title.

McKay studied her warily. Youre a pathologist. Are you even capable of pulling blood from a living soul?

Not to worry, Rodney, Beckett answered. if Dr. Biro cant hit a peripheral vein, she can always do a cardiac stick. Carson smiled congenially. Pathologists are very good with those. He picked up a tube, tourniquet and vacutainer needle from the cart and headed toward Teyla.

Biro gathered similar supplies and started toward McKay.

Nowaitwait, Rodneys panicked voice suddenly rose an octave higher, assuring everyone that he was truly prepubescent. He shuffled back on the gurney trying to create distance between himself and the approaching pathologist. The legs of his pants draped over his feet and dangled toward the floor.

What now, Rodney? Sheppard asked tiredly.

Biro touches dead people. McKays lower lip started to quiver. I want Carson. A slight tremor rippled his voice nearly matching the unconscious movement of his lower lip.

Sheppard, Beckett, Biro and Ronon all shared concerned glances. What the...?

McKay pulled his knees up to his chest, his bare feet hidden by the absurdly long pant legs. He hugged his arms around his knees, cinching his legs securely to his chest in the tight fashion that only the very young and flexible could achieve. Wide blue eyes darted nervously from person to person.

The others stared back at him mutely.

Carson? he pleaded in a frightened, panicked whisper. McKay looked very much the four-year-old ready to break down or bolt or maybe both.

Alright, Rodney, its alright, I can do it. Carson hid his concern over the strange reaction and smiled kindly at McKay, who was peering back at him with frightened blue eyes over the collar of his oversized coat. In the background, Biro headed over to Teyla's side to do the same.

Ill be as quick as I can, you wont feel a thing, Beckett promised McKay, using the same tone and comforting words he used when treating children in both the Pegasus galaxy and his home world.

Beckett held out his hand palm up waiting for McKay to volunteer his arm so blood could be drawn. Carson offered a sincere smile, encouraging the child to willingly extend his arm.

Rodney slowly unlatched his hand from his other wrist and cautiously stretched out his left hand.

Carson, still smiling, held the soft, pale hand in his own seemingly large hand. He pushed the coat sleeve back revealing the milky white, clean skin of a childs forearm. See, Rodney, nothing to worry over. Beckett started talking softly, letting his accent thicken, knowing that it oftentimes soothed those not used to hearing it often. He explained every step of the procedure as if McKay had never been through it before. Carson kept an eye on Rodney, watching the wide blue eyes that followed his every movement while continuing his soft litany.

Beckett silently cursed as he waited for any sign of a small blue vessel to bugle its way to the surface. Baby fat was a wonderful camouflage for peripheral vessels.

Colonel, Beckett called casting a quick glance over his shoulder. He shut his eyes as flash of vertigo swamped him. Pain spiked behind his eyes. He caught his breath and slowly eased it out, would you...?

Oh sure, Sheppard stood up from the foot of McKays gurney and worked to distract the frightened child from the potential blood draw.

Sheppard had to give Carson credit, the colonel never saw the needle or blood tube or even notice Rodney flinch. But within a few seconds Beckett was releasing the tourniquet and patting Rodneys knee. All done.

Jeez, thanks, Carson, McKay bit out in his usual caustic satire. I might have missed the obvious.

Beckett and Sheppard stared uneasily at one another.

Well get these run. Carson held up the different colored topped blood tubes. You might want to start trying to find our little bairn here a set of clothes that fit. Beckett smiled at McKay testing the waters.

Rodney snarled back at him promising retribution for when this was over.

A sense of relief washed briefly over the others.

Jinto, Teylas shaky voice croaked from her bed, drawing all eyes toward her, Hallings son may have some smaller clothes, or his young friend, Kimon may have some. Kimon has a baby brother not much older than Dr. McKay now. Teyla sunk further into her pillow trying to catch her breath.

Alright, we can handle that. Sheppard let his worried gaze travel from Teylas supine form to Ronon back to Beckett and Biro. When should we be back?

Give us a little over an hour, Carson said.

Sheppard nodded. Come on, Rodney, time to go beg clothes so we dont scare people with your pearly white, bald ass.

Shut up, McKay snorted and slid off the table, holding fast to the top of his pants with a knotted fist that dimpled over his knuckles. He slid to the ground with the legs pooled around his feet, and quickly fell to the ground. The coat sleeves swallowed his hands as he pushed himself up, glaring at the smirking Sheppard when the colonel made no move to help this time.

Ach, hold on a moment. Carson handed the blood tubes to Biro and then moved in front of Rodney. Ya gonna end up killing ya self tripping over your own clothing. Beckett squatted down and began rolling the pants legs up. Soon thick rolled cuffs ended just above Rodneys unmarred bare feet. Dont forget shoes, Carson said. He then rolled the cuffs back on McKays coat. There, that should do you for a bit. Beckett smiled encouragingly, still squatting and staring eye level at the astrophysicist.

I really dislike you right now.

Aye, thats okay, Rodney. Youre too cute for me to care. With that, Carson gently pinched McKays pudgy cheek with the sole intention to annoy and succeeding magnificently.

Oh, quit that! McKay slapped Becketts hand away and stormed around the CMO and headed for the infirmary door.

Lets go, Colonel. McKay raised a hand and snapped his fingers, not even turning his head to see if he was being followed. Let's hustle-we have things to do, people to meet and all that other crap.

Sheppard stared down at Beckett who remained squatted on the floor. He is still amazingly annoying, he sighed, heading across the room following the little tyrant.

Aye, Beckett agreed softly. He rested his head in his hand while holding onto the gurney McKay had just vacated to keep his balance.

Say, huh, Doc. Sheppard turned at the door and stared back at Carson who still squatted on the floor. Hes ahh, um-well-hes-Rodneys um

Just spit it out, Colonel. Rodneys what? Beckett asked tiredly.

Hes toilet trained and all that, isnt he? I mean at his age, he should be. Sheppard spoke with true fear.

Carson chuckled lightly, resting his head heavily in his hand. Aye, I should hope so, but youll be the second to know. Beckett paused and then added, Just dont get him too overtired or youll have a sopping mess on your hands.

Oh, this just gets better and better. See you in about an hour. With that Sheppard headed out the door with the shrilling voice of McKay ordering him once again to hurry.

[{O}]

A/N: As a Genii Commander, I would like to offer you a suggestion. Leave me reviews. It would be in your best interest.


	3. 4:Definitely Not Pink

**Stuck!**

[{O}]

**Chapter Four: Definitely Not Pink **

Will you quit that? Sheppard hissed out for the umpteenth time. McKay stood on the co-pilots seat and twisted it left and right with the same monotonous intensity as a mouse running on a wheel.

Stop what? McKay bantered back, making the chair swivel quicker, banging it as far as it could go to the left before rebounding back and swinging as far as it could go to the right. The motion seemed to feed itself like a vortex stuck at a 45 degree partial spin.

Back and forth, back and forth.

Ill tie your ass down if you dont knock it off, the colonel warned.

The puddle jumper skimmed over the vast blue ocean of Atlantis. The dark grey water morphed into deep blue and finally brilliant aquamarine as the small ship closed in on land. Trees began taking on distinctive individual shapes and small huts started to pop into view.

No you wont, Rodney challenged, making the chair swivel even faster, enjoying both the new found energy that seemed to course through his body and the bottomless well that it seemed to spring from. He focused most of his energy into irritating Sheppard.

Try me, Sheppard warned with a dangerous tone.

I am! Rodney called the Colonels bluff, dropping to his knees using his hands on the control board to increase his tempo, speeding up his arc of near perpetual motion. Left to right, left to right, left to right.

It was blindly, monotonously, mind numbingly...enjoyable! Rodney grinned ear to ear with a baby-toothed smile.

Sheppard ground his teeth and swore hed never have children. The left to right motion was driving him insane, like the pendulum that was slowly going to slice him in half.

Oh, he would get even with Rodney for this.

At least the chair didnt squeak. Sheppard closed his eyes, thankful for small favorsand then it startedthe squeaking. Left, _squeak_, right, _squeak_, left, _squeak_, right, _squeak_. It seemed to grow in volume with each partial revolution.

The high pitched noise apparently enthralled McKays little ears and the scientist worked furiously, swinging the co-pilots chair left and right at almost inhuman speeds, working the squeak to near brain piercing intensity.

Sheppard bit his cheek and kept his eyes straight head. Maybe if he ignored McKay, the pint-sized terror would simply disappear.

Left-squeak-right-squeak continued.

Sheppard silently wondered if the co-pilot chair was an ejection seat.

He never thought flying could be such hell. He could hardly wait to land.

[{O}]

Sheppard and McKay stood just on the outskirts of the Athosian settlement. Rodney stared at the dirt, pebbles and animal droppings that dotted the well-worn walking lane that bisected through the center of the village. He was sure hed get a parasite of some sort, pin worms or worse, maybe tetanus even!

He was doomed. Einstein never had to deal with things such as this. Why did Rodney McKay?

He watched wearily as Halling spotted them and waved, making his way toward the duo.

Sheppard waved back and smiled, hoping that Halling had truly understood the information that had been relayed by the few troops camped on the edge of the settlement practicing maneuvers. Major Lorne was leading the days maneuvers and had promised his colonel that he would contact Halling and offer only enough information to get them what they needed until they knew for certain what they were dealing with.

Like were going to find any decent clothing here, McKay muttered. Hell, Walmart or Target would be a step above this drudgery."

Jeez, McKay, grow up, Sheppard snapped, and then paused as he heard what he'd just said. Oh, right.

Eat me, McKay snarled

Maybe Ill let Halling, the colonel chuckled.

McKay considered kicking the other man but refrained, wiggling his bare toes in the dirt.

Not funny, McKay muttered.

I think it is, Sheppard retorted, a sly musical lilting of hope in his voice.

You shouldnt think, Rodney snapped.

Im not the one three feet tall, now am I? the colonel observed.

Not my fault, Rodney hissed back as Halling drew closer.

Never is, the colonel replied.

Halling furrowed his brow as he approached the duo, noticing the awkward, stilted behavior of Sheppard and the child.

He addressed the colonel, but kept a friendly smile on his face, offering warm welcome to the strange child.

Jinto, I fear, does not have clothing his size. Halling dipped his head in direction of the child.

McKay folded his arms over his chest, managing to keep a tight hold of his pants. He glared at Halling, doing his best to make his presence larger than his tiny frame.

However, Kimons brother, Graedal might have some articles that will be useful. Halling turned and headed back into the settlement. Follow me.

You ready, Rodney? Sheppard asked before taking a step forward.

This sucks, Rodney pouted, reluctant to follow Halling. Im going to end up dressed like some medieval peasant.

Well, at least youll have the evil part right, Sheppard offered. He tried to control a heavy sigh and smiled reassuringly at Halling when the bigger man turned around, perplexed as to why the duo were not following him.

Perhaps, the child would like to play with the other children in the forest?

Perhaps, the child, McKay gritted out sarcastically between clenched teeth, just loud enough for Sheppard to hear, would like to shoot his ass full of lead.

Sheppard slipped his hand down to McKays coat collar and gripped it tightly in warning. The colonel looked up and smiled at the Athosian. He doesnt play well with others. Sheppard paused, He has a tendency to make other kids cry.

Halling stared at the small bundle draped in Altantian clothing, sneering at him and looking like he was barely being held back by the colonelhe suddenly feared for his kneecaps. Ahh, I can sense that, he admitted, studying the snarled features that glared back at him. He couldnt help but think he had seen the boy before. The child seemed hauntingly, almost disturbingly, familiar. Still, he would ponder the fact later-at the moment they had a favor to fulfill. Come, then. This way. Halling turned once more and headed into the village.

Come, then. This way, McKay snarled sarcastically mimicking Halling quietly.

Knock it off, McKay, Sheppard whispered, tightening his grip and practically dragging the boy with him.

Will you let go! McKay mumbled pulling back and trying to twist free.

You going to behave and follow?

Are you going to stop treating me like a child?

Are going to stop acting like one? Sheppard shot back.

McKay folded his arms over his chest and nearly lost his drawers in doing so. He made a desperate lunge for them and saved himself the embarrassment of exposing his knees to the Athosians that really didnt seem to pay them any mind.

Lets go, McKay, Sheppard spoke tiredly, not bothering to hide the sigh in his voice.

[{O}]

Oh please. McKay dropped the shirt on the ground discarding it with a huff and up turned nose.

Rodney, Sheppard warned in the tight, forced patience that he had heard parents use in numerous shopping stores and markets around the world. It didnt matter the language they spoke, or the exact words that were uttered, the body language and tone were the same. Parents were on edge and children were pushing the proverbial envelope. For the first time he found no humor in the situation and only empathy for the mother and father stuck with such impossible, bullheaded, stubborn, tantrum prone children.

He understood why grizzlies chased their young up trees and then ran like hell to get away from them.

Ive got delicate, sensitive skin! I cant wear that! Rodney stomped his bare foot on the dirt floor and pointed a tiny finger, which became hidden under the material of the coat sleeve, at the discarded white shirt on the ground.

Sheppard looked to the old matriarch of the house and pleaded with her silently to understand.

She smiled back and slowly shook her head as if chastising him for his failure in dealing with the petulant child. She had coarse, white hair and heavily lined, sun-wrinkled features, but her dark brown eyes were sharp and clear. Perhaps you would like a stick? She tilted her head to the far corner that held a small hollow reed.

Both Sheppard and McKay followed her direction and stared at the obvious tool of corporal discipline. Sheppard had never had an opinion about corporal punishment one way or another, but right now he was willing to dabble in a little experimentation of his own.

He stared down at McKay and quirked an interested eyebrow.

You will not! McKay stammered with a little less authority than he had used just moments earlier.

You keep testing the waters, Sheppard explained, then I might test a few of my own.

McKay glared back at the larger man with blazing blue eyes, hands on his hips. They stared at one another and finally Rodney dropped his arms. Oh, fine! He whipped the white shirt up off the dirt floor and shook it out. Ill try it, but if I break out in a rash it's all your fault! McKay shimmed out of his coat with a lot of help from Sheppard, while trying to keep his oversized pants up with one hand. Ill probably get some sort of mange from this, chiggers, or somethinggoing to be itching until all my skin peels off. I get no respect at all. McKays voice became muffled as he and Sheppard slipped the white shirt with the V-neck tie string over his head, Im a genius, you know; I should be treated better than thisget away from me! I can do it! McKay twisted away from Sheppards helping hands and struggled to get the shirt over his super-sized head.

His diatribe wove on an on. The old woman sat on her stool and smiled patiently at Sheppard as the bigger man worked with fumbling hands, trying to assist the young rebellious child who continued to twist and turn in sedition to any perceived unnecessary and unwarranted help.

I can do it myself! McKay muttered, kicking out at Sheppard while simultaneously getting his head stuck in the armhole.

I can see that, Sheppard placated, dropping his hands away and stepping back. He turned to the old woman. Were going to need pants and something for his feet.

And underthings as well?

Sheppard paused and cocked his head to the side, unknowingly mimicking McKays movement, whose head was still jammed tightly in the armhole of the shirt as he cocked it.

The small hut fell into silence.

Someone put me out of my misery, McKay muttered.

Sheppard rubbed tiredly at his forehead and stared at Rodney, cursing Beckett and the others tucked safely away in Atlantis. You and me both, the colonel muttered.

McKays little white potbelly with its outy belly button was exposed to the cool air of the hut. Little ribs were highlighted under pale stretched skin and thin blue veins spidered across his abdomen and lower thorax. With each impatient breath, his little rib cage expanded and contracted, exposing the resilient yet painfully thin musculature of a young child.

Um, underwear, yeah, Sheppard agreed nodding his head. He never thought about underwear. Um, Rodney, are you a tighty-whitey kind of guy or a boxer type guy?

Oh please, just kill me now, McKay muttered dropping his shirt covered head onto his chest. The cuff of the white homespun sleeve flopped forward onto his covered nose.

Well take whatever you got. Sheppard forced a pleasant smile in the direction of the old lady.

As long as its clean, McKay shouted out, turning his head left and right trying to see through the thick hand woven material of the shirt.

This really itches, you know, he whined once again, struggling to get his head out of the tight confines of the sleeve. He paused, his breath coming out in deeper, faster pants, building in frustration.

Sheppard watched with some curiosity as the tiny ribs and little pale veins became more pronounced. There wasnt a piece of hair on Mini-McKays body.

A little help here, McKays perturbed voice demanded once again, stomping his foot in irritation.

Oh right. Sheppard reached out and helped with the shirt.

[{O}]

Athosians looked up from their chores at the sudden scream of a single raised voice from within the hut. Some cringed at the high screech that pierced the afternoon. They shook their heads collectively when they heard the military leader of Atlantis once again try and reason with the young boy. The parents of the settlement knew there was no reasoning with a child of that age. It was mostly a game of give and take and choosing one's battles.

Colonel Sheppard might have been a mastermind at warfare but he was woefully outmaneuvered and out-vocalized by the terror that sulked and nipped at his heels with breath stealing volume.

I draw the line at pink! The childish shrill had an Athosian couple moving their quiet lunch a few huts down, foregoing their enjoyment of the sunny afternoon for shade and some barriers between themselves and the willful vocal child.

Oh come on, McKay, they arent pink. Sheppard held up the moccasins by their heels and peered at them critically. Theyre more like a soft red.

Soft red, my ass, Rodney spat out, sitting down in a huff with his arms folded obstinately over his white-shirted chest. The strings of the shirt flopped out of the tiny brown vest that matched the somewhat baggie pants that were tied around his bony hips.

He could already feel the prickly rash starting. He tilted a butt cheek up off the ground and itched at it irritably, making sure the Colonel saw his discomfort.

Sheppard refused to think about the underwear and promised Beckett and Ronon a thousand painful deaths for bestowing him with this chore. Apparently Athosians didnt have glow in the dark Buzz Lightyear tighty-whitey cotton jockey shorts, nor did they have blended cotton loose fitting boxers. Instead, they wore coarse woolen type briefs that nearly brought tears to Sheppards eyes when he saw them. He promised to allow Rodney to go commando if he deemed it necessary. Little McKay and, well, Littler McKay didnt and shouldnt be subjected to that type of coarse torture.

Hell, Sheppard could feel a rash coming on himself.

The moccasins were a different matter. Sheppard was putting his foot down, so to speak. They were running out of time.

What type of inept idiot are you? McKay spat back. Even if they were red, Im not wearing them!

Oh, yes you are, Sheppard ground out, pushing the light red (possibly pink if one looked directly at them) footwear into McKays little chest. "They're the only ones your size!"

McKay pushed them back. Oh no, Im not.

McKay, Sheppard sighed.

Colonel, McKay answered back.

Look it, just take them for now. When we get to Atlantis you can show em to Beckett and then lose them for all I care, but we cant go back without some type of shoe on your foot, or Weir and Beckett will have my ass.

Like I care, was McKays rebuttal.

You will, Sheppard promised. The two stared at one another, neither side willing to give in.

Listen," the colonel said finally, "were wasting timewe've got to get back and see what Beckett and Biro found. Or do you want to spend all day here?

McKay seemed to deflate a little at that and hunched further. With an air of resignation, he took the possibly red moccasins back and tried to wiggle one over his foot.

The other foot, Rodney, Sheppard automatically corrected.

I know that! McKay spat back, taking the ill-fitting, faded, 'kind of' red moccasin off his right foot and wiggled it easily onto his left. It fit much better.

I dont like Biro, McKay muttered.

Sheppard didnt say anything and watched somewhat disheartened as the normally sure-handed, nimble-fingered McKay fumbled and forced blunt fingers and pudgy hands to get equally unskilled feet into the footwear.

She works with dead people, McKay muttered.

I know, Sheppard agreed haphazardly, feeling his heart sink as he watched McKay struggle to get the second moccasin over his bare foot.

I dont want her touching me, Rodney stammered, trying to clarify something that suddenly seemed difficult to get across. She creeps me out. And you know I hate needles. I prefer Carson. hes...better. McKays dirty foot finally popped into the moccasin. He paused and looked up at Sheppard with a hesitant, almost pleading look.

Ill make sure it's Beckett from now on, Sheppard promised, thankful it was such an easy thing to do.

McKay nodded and then pushed himself to his feet. He stared down past his brown woven pantswhich ended just at the top of his anklesto his moccasins.

Are you sure theyre not pink? McKay cocked his head left and right. Men dont wear pinkno matter what TV says.

They dont look pink from here, Sheppard answered. I think they look like a really, really, light crimson. He headed for the door. You ready?

Yeah, fine. Let's blow this popsicle stand and get back. McKay wiggled his toes in his new, light red moccasins and followed the Colonel out of the hut and into the late afternoon sun.

[{O}]

Im telling you, McKay, knock it off!

Left, _squeak_, right, _squeak_, left, _squeak_ right, _squeak_.

McKay stood on the co-pilot seat swiveling it with all the rabid tenacity of a pit bull shaking a meaty bone.

Make me, McKay giggled, whipping the chair side to side, staring at his almost, not quite, but maybe if the lights were dimmer, reddish hued moccasins.

[{O}]

An hour and fifty minutes after leaving the infirmary, the duo returned. Sheppard walked into the infirmary with McKay tucked under his arm like a football.

Let me down! McKays voice carried like a beeping smoke detector with low batteries.

You going to behave? Sheppard shot back with a hint of frustration.

Im always behaved, McKay retorted.

Yeah, right, John dismissed, tightening his hold on the mini-scientist. Ill let you go once I get closer to Dex."

Oh, that's just not fair, McKay pouted from his position being touted like a pile of books under someones arm. He kicked his legs ineffectually trying to get free (and, if lucky, hit the Colonel). Little pink moccasins flailed back and forth in a tireless attempt to connect with some part of the Colonels anatomy.

Ill be happy to watch him, Ronons deep voice rumbled across the room.

Sorry were late, Sheppard offered as he let McKay swing down toward the floor feet first. The colonel kept a tight hold of Rodneys collarless white wool shirt and vest.

What, Carson not pay the electric bill? Rodney snapped, staring at the darkened area of the infirmary. Whys it so dark in here?

Teyla needs sleep and Doctor

Ronon was cut short by McKays sudden, Hey! What the Hell is Carson doing sleeping? Rodney stared up at Sheppard. Someone wake him up! Hes got work to do.

McKay started making a beeline toward the sleeping doctor, but was brought up short by Sheppard pulling him back by his collar.

Knock that off! McKay stamped his foot in frustration. The moccasin made a muffled ineffectual thud, the soft pink color defying any attempts at expressing serious intimidation.

We really need a day care, Sheppard mumbled.

He turned his attention from McKay. Whats going on, Ronon? The colonel kept a tight hold of McKay as the astrophysicist continued to wiggle and twist in an attempt to break away from Sheppards hold.

He has a headache.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. It had to be more to it than that.

Oh good, Colonel, youre back. Biro walked into the darkened room, pushing her oversized, heavy rimmed glasses up onto the bridge of her nose. Sheppard couldnt fathom why people as intelligent as Biro and Zelenka couldnt find a simple pair of eyewear that fit properly. She paused and stared at Rodney and his footwear. Are those pink? she asked incredulously.

No! rang out simultaneously from two different sources.

Biro backed up a step at the vehemence.

Theyre faded red, Rodney stated, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot, just daring someone to challenge him.

A light crimson, Sheppard confirmed. He quickly redirected, Whats wrong with Beckett?

He has a headache, Biro answered, eying the two before her questioningly.

Told you, Ronon stated.

So? Sheppard asked, curling his lip in an annoyed snarl at Ronon before giving his full attention to Biro.

It was bad, the pathologist simplified.

How bad? Sheppard couldnt understand the non-military.

She knocked his ass out and he didnt complain, bad, Dex clarified.

Sheppard stared at Biro. Oh, and then down at Beckett who slept curled on his side, Damn. He turned his attention back to the pathologist. Did you find anything?

Oh, yes, quite a bit, and then Biro delved into the world of enzymes, function tests, and what varying levels meant. She rattled on about the aged related changes found rampant in Teyla and the age related peculiarities of someone the assumed age of a four to five year old. She described the different patterns seen, the fluctuations in the different panels that were run and the changes that had occurred in both Teyla and Rodney.

Somewhere during the monologue, McKay worked his way free of Sheppard.

Biro continued on, explaining the necessity of serial testing to try and gauge which direction their bodies were heading.

Sheppard had a pretty good idea already, and it wasnt good.

Physically, Teyla was truly geriatric and Rodney was truly a child.

Theres a shocker, the colonel muttered when Biro took a breath after essentially repeating what he'd just thought. In the meantime, Sheppard kept his eyes on McKay. He watched as Rodney reached up and repeatedly poked Beckett in the shoulder with his unwrinkled, non-calloused index finger. Sheppard sighed, I guess we just cant add water and hope he grows? He looked pointedly at Biro, trying to ignore McKay as the terror managed to climb up onto the gurney Carson slept on and resorted to rocking Becketts head back and forth on the pillow.

Biro stopped speaking and stared at the Colonel and then over at McKay, I honestly dont think that would work, Colonel, she noted, delicately dismissing the idea.

Sheppard offered his patent faux smile and quietly figured Biro really needed to interact with more of the living.

Biro continued with their findings. Becketts blood tests remained unchanged from his last physical only a few weeks ago. Imaging showed no significant changes that would result in a severe headache. According to the tests run, he was normal. That garnered raised eyebrows to the validity of the tests.

But, Beckett and Biro had found a plausible explanation for what had happened. When Biro mentioned this, Sheppard suddenly lost the glazed look. McKay stopped trying to peel one of Becketts eyelids open to peer into the doctors eye. Dex stood a little straighter, crossing his arms over his chest.

Apparently, Teyla, McKay and Beckett combined created the necessary genetic ingredients for potential disaster.

Sheppard sighed. _Figures_.

"Guess we're ready to see Weir," he told her.

[{O}]

A/N: I've been patient. REVIEWS! Truly, do you know what I am capable of if I do not receive them? I have guns, and knives and pointed sticks.


	4. 5:Mister CrankyPants

**Stuck!**

_In response to some of my reviews:_  
**R.D.** - Yes, I am a little militant in my request for reviews. I am in the military, so it is to be expected. LEAVE MORE REVIEWS!  
**MA**! How did you find out I was posting? Have you been googling me again! Seriously, Mother, I need my space. I moved out THREE YEARS AGO! Let me live my own life! No more reviews from you!  
**Wella **- it's not looking any better for Teyla. You can review me any time!  
**Elisa, Dr. Dredd and flah7** - Beckett is a fine fellow, even though he's a 'medical' doctor. Leave more reviews and tell me how much you like it when I write about Beckett!  
**SheppardsGrrl** - Don't know if I can help you much with Sheppard, but leave more reviews anyway.  
**Julie the Cow** - Get back in your stall! No more reviews FROM YOU! It's nearly milking time and I don't appreciate all the hoof marks on my keyboard!  
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_Now, on to the story. Don't expect me to do this again!_

[{O}]

**Chapter Five: Mister Cranky-Pants **

When Sheppard entered the conference room, he found it chock full of people. It surprised him so much, he stopped. And then something ran into one of his legs and, even more surprisingly, grabbed onto it.

The confusion over the size of the crowd changed, and the colonel looked down, to see McKay hiding behind his leg, holding onto it like a shy child does his father's. Sheppard was torn between finding it endearing...and finding it creepy. Creepy won out, and he shook his leg a little. It seemed to wake the 'child' up, and McKay shook his head, the massive brow furrowing a little as if confused himself over the reaction, and let go. A second later, McKay was around Sheppard and striding up to the table, all signs of fear gone.

The fact that he was barely tall enough to see over it seemed not to daunt the boy in the least.

"Elizabeth," the child's voice called out, still commanding despite its high-pitched tenor. McKay reached the edge of the table, climbed up onto a chair, and then climbed up onto the table. Weir, who had been speaking quietly with Doctor Heightmeyer, turned as her name was called. As did everyone else in the room.

The four-year-old boy raised his chin in an unmistakable fashion, then held his arms out.

"I take it you're all here to see this?" McKay challenged, his anger and fury evident in his tone. "Well, here you go. I am apparently four years old in body, but, believe me, this isn't." And he tapped his melonhead for emphasis. "I can still outthink all of you on even on your best days. Now, you," he jabbed a finger at a young Chinese scientist, whose name he thought was Li, the girl raising both eyebrows. Rodney wasn't done, and he pointed at three others dressed in science blue, "You, you and you...none of you need to be here. And you," he whirled around, this time pointing at someone in a green shirt, who stood with two others, also wearing operations green, "and your friends...leave. Now."

The seven people all looked at each other, as if unsure if they actually had to listen to him, and not wanting to admit they had indeed come here more out of curiosity than purpose.

"NOW!" McKay shouted, his face turning beet red. "You've done your gawking! LEAVE!"

"I would," Sheppard said quietly at the same people, moving unhappily to stand behind Mini-McKay. There was a soft warning in his tone.

And they did, all a little sheepishly, sidling out the door without another peep.

As soon as they were gone, McKay sat down on the table, crossing his legs and crossing his arms tightly over his thin chest. He arched an eyebrow at the rest of the room. There were still about twelve people thereWeir, Heightmeyer, Major Lorne, Zelenka, Biro and several other members of McKay's and Beckett's teams.

Amazingly, the pint-sized glare got them all in motion. Soon, everyone was sitting at attention, watching the boy expectantly. Their curiosity and still obvious amazement were palpable. Only Sheppard wasn't sitting, still standing behind McKay. Elizabeth wasn't sitting either. She had crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow at McKay. Heightmeyer was sitting, but not at the table. She had moved to a shadowed corner and sat in a chair there. She had a notebook out and was writing in it.

McKay was obviously trying his best not to notice. Sheppard slid into a chair behind the boy, covering a quick smile at the fact that McKay was still quite obviously McKayeven decked out in pink shoes, he was still able to cow people.

"Okay," Elizabeth breathed out, looking across to Biro and Sheppard, "Someone explain this to me."

"It's Beckett's fault," McKay snapped out. "He did this."

To McKay's left, Doctor Biro's forehead clouded. She opened her mouth to defend her CMO, but Elizabeth was first.

"Now...Rodney," Elizabeth squinted a little at the child, still clearly not comfortable with talking to him like this, "that's a harsh accusation. I think"

"Yeah, but he's right," Sheppard interjected, shrugging a little. "To a degree. Ronon's also to blame."

Elizabeth's eyebrows lifted, then creased. "Speaking of which, where is Ronon? And Doctor Beckett?"

"Ronon's watching over Teyla. Doctor Beckett..." Sheppard looked at Biro.

The internist leaned forward, "Is under sedation for an intense migraine. He got a bit of a backlash from the machine they encountered, but he'll be fine. He and I had a long discussion first, though, which I'm ready to relay, if I may." She lifted her eyebrows, waiting for permission.

And hesitated just a moment too long before continuing.

"Yes, go. Go, go, go! Not getting any older here!" McKay berated with a put-upon sigh. Sheppard eyed the boy's back, the smile that McKay's trademark impatience had caused dropping. He realized McKay was trembling. A hand lifted, instinctively wanting to reach out and soothe a frightened child. But then he remembered it was McKay sitting there, and grimaced, wishing he wasn't thinking about such thingsit made the creeped out feeling grow. McKay had made it easy beforewhen the whole thing was just a whole wonderful new way to tease and torment the manbut the way he'd reacted when Biro tried to take his blood, even with his explanation back in the village, and just now when he'd grabbed his leg...suddenly, it wasn't as funny. McKay acting childish was one thingLord knows that man did that all the timebut acting _child-like_ was another.

Biro had attempted to give McKay a dark look for his rudeness, but it had faded at the sight of himMcKay was just incredibly cute, even when he was scowling. Dimples, rosy cheeks, huge blue eyeshe was almost cherubic. Sighing, she turned back to Elizabeth. Weir gave her an encouraging nod.

"As you know, the building Doctor Beckett and the others were exploring was an Ancient medical facility, but it was much more than just a hospital and training facility, it was a very advanced research facility. We have postulated that the room where the...event...occurred was one where the Ancients were studying a means to reverse the effects of a Wraith attack."

Elizabeth's eyes widened, "Really?"

"Yes, but, clearly, it was still experimental, otherwise," she waved a hand around, "machines like that found there would be here, yes?" Biro's clipped Minnesotan accent added a curtness to her tone, as if waiting to be challenged. She looked around then, as if looking for an answer for her question, despite its obviously rhetorical nature. When she didn't immediately continue, a large childish huff came from McKay.

"Oh for...you're not seriously looking for an answer, are you?" McKay's bad mood was not improving, and one leg had started jiggling with unreleased adrenalin. He turned his petulant glare on Sheppard behind him. "Now you see why I wanted to wake up Carson."

Biro sighed. "Anyway, the device, as Doctor Beckett described it to me, was obviously meant to transfer the strength absorbed by the Wraith back to its victim. Though, I suppose, any Wraith would actually do. We don't actually know if...that is to say, a Wraith that's recently fed probably has more stored energy, but...Well, perhaps just their mere regenerative abilities would...hmmm..." She trailed off, as is contemplating the thought, a finger tapping her lip.

"Stay focused!" McKay shouted. Biro jumped.

"Rodney..." Elizabeth hissed in warning across the table. McKay gazed sullenly at her, but quieted.

"Yes, yes." Biro shifted in her chair. "Anyway, what we think happened is that, when Doctor Beckett accidentally activated the machine in question, it recognized him as a physician starting it up, and it immediately moved to seek out its patients. It found Doctor McKay first, as he was probably standing the closest. It scanned him, and found...our best guess...traces of the Wraith enzyme still in his blood."

McKay hissed at that, his arms tightening around his scrawny body.

"It would also recognize the Ancient gene in his make-up, so it would assume he was the victim, Biro said. "And then...it found Teyla..."

"Who carries Wraith DNA, and also probably still has the enzyme in her bloodstream," Weir supplied.

"Yes. Now, it may not have actually activated, if it hadn't then been prompted then to begin its work. Doctor Beckett had already suspected the machine's purpose, based on a Wraith skeleton he found bound to a bed, so when it started scanning Teyla, he tried to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, that just put him back in the direct path of the machine's attention, and the machine took his thoughts about the process to be a desire on his part for the process to then occur..."

"Oh, wow," Sheppard muttered. McKay was just squinting at Biro, his pale lips tightly pressed together. The rest of the room was just as rapt, varying degrees of concern on their faces.

"After that, he might have succeeded in stopping it if he had been given the time to cobble his thoughts together and directly focus them, but then..."

"Dex shot it," Sheppard noted darkly.

"I knew this was going to happen someday," McKay hissed suddenly, turning to glare at the colonel sitting behind him. "I knew that someday, your military training to shoot first, ask questions later would get us into trouble!"

"Hey!" Sheppard replied, not hiding his surprise, his tone defensive. "I didn't shoot it!"

"No, but your trained specialist did!"

"He was trying to help you!"

"I don't give a rat's ass what"

"Rodney!" Weir called, "I will not have that kind of language!" She sounded like an irate school marm. And as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it, too. She looked mortified. "That is...I...Rodney...Gentlemen..." She looked even worse. "Please, just...behave."

McKay dropped his large head into a small hand at her clear embarrassment. It amazed Sheppard that it could hold the weight. The blonde German scientist sitting next to Zelenka covered her mouth with her hand, but there was no question she was smiling behind it.

"May I continue?" Biro asked, looking around expectantly.

"Yes," Elizabeth said almost desperately.

"Well, anyway, obviously, the machine is intended to work on a Wraith and a Wraith victimsomeone grossly aged. A Wraith would, presumably, be able to withstand having it's life energy sucked from it, because of its amazing regenerative powers. Teyla, however...we're lucky it didn't kill her outright. Part of that might be because it also took a little from Doctor Beckett himself, which is why he ended up feeling exhausted and drained. That may have saved her life, such as it is..."

"Such as it is?" Sheppard repeated, his brow furrowing.

"She is, most decidedly, dying, Colonel," Biro stated, her curt tone back. "She has a few days, maybe. Not even a week. It is only her own remarkable health and perhaps whatever part of her that is Wraith that will allow her to last even that long."

"Oh, God," Rodney whispered, and he drew his crossed legs up unconsciously, wrapping his thin arms around them. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course," Biro responded, not seeing that he wasn't really looking for that answer. "Now, as for you...Doctor McKay, you have, as you know, been...regressed. The Ancient machine was intended to turn the prematurely aged back into normal adulthood. You, obviously, were not old."

"Thirty-seven," McKay informed the room weakly, as if reminding himself as much as everyone else.

"Yes, so, it turned you back into a child. But that's not all. From the blood work, we also know that your body's chemistry is such that it shows signs of almost rabid health. It's really quiet fascinating, almost as if..."

"Doctor," Elizabeth chided quietly, sensing Biro about to go off another tangent.

"Yes, yes, in any event," she nodded at McKay, pushing her glasses up on her nose again, "what I mean to say is, you seem to be just fine, better than fine, in fact. All in all," she raised her eyebrows again, the furry things rising over the rim of her glasses, "you ended up with the best part of this bargain. You'll age normally and, probably, outlive us all." She smiled.

McKay just sort of stared at her, his blue eyes huge. Suddenly, he turned to stare at Sheppard. The colonel was watching him, a dark frown on his face. Fact was, the colonel was trying his damndest not to be bitter at the idea that McKay somehow ended up _better_ for all this.

Wait, what was he thinking...McKay was FOUR.

Rodney was watching his face, examining it. Whatever he saw there suddenly made him turn away, his shoulders hunching guiltily.

"Okay, so...," Elizabeth looked around the room, "Now what?"

"Well, obviously, we need to find how that machine works," Rodney spat, his blue eyes lifting to stare at Elizabeth. "Get it fixed, and get it to reverse whatever this...thing...before Teyla dies. Sound like a plan? Meaning we need to get back to that planet as soon as possible. Zelenka," Rodney looked across the way to where the Czech scientist was watching him, head tilted, "You, me, Fountain Pen Guy, Simpson and Thatcher need to"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you're not going anywhere," Sheppard said suddenly. "You're staying right here."

"Are you serious? That machine will need delicate handling!" McKay gave his best flabbergasted stare, which, oddly, made him look even more cute. "I have to be there. No one other than me can be sure that all the...bits...make it back here. Or did you forget the last time someone tried to handle delicate damaged technology without me?" Both eyebrows lifted. Such as they were. They hadn't really grown in yet.

"The colonel's right, Rodney," Elizabeth interjected. "In your current...state...you can't really think..."

"I'm not a child, Elizabeth!" McKay snorted, crossing his arms again. "I just look like one. Can we think about this logically for a moment? You need me to"

"You're staying here," Sheppard stated, his tone stern.

"Or what, you'll ground me? Send me to my room? Cut off my allowance? Please. Look, if you're worried about speed," McKay made a brief face, "I'll even let you carry me. Some. Not all the time."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "No, McKay, it's not speed."

"You're a potential hazard, son," Lorne threw in, from his position on Elizabeth's left.

McKay whipped around, eyes wide. He suddenly rocketed off the table, storming over to where Lorne sat on the opposite side. He jabbed a pudgy finger out.

"Do...not...call...me...son."

Lorne's lips lifted into a tiny smile.

"I mean it!" McKay yelled.

"Okay, okay," Elizabeth said, standing up to hold her hands out. Rodney faced her, crossing his arms over his chest again. She looked down at him, and sat down, obviously uncomfortable with the height difference. "His point, Rodney, is that they should not have to protect a child and, and!" She held a hand out, stopping the protest forming on his lips that he wasn't a child, "For all intents and purposes, you are, physically, a...little boy."

McKay winced at that, but didn't deny it.

"Now," Elizabeth leaned forward, a smile gracing her face, her tone softening, "They will be very careful and bring everything back, and you can help them as soon as they do, okay?"

McKay's face darkened at her patronizing tone. "God, I hated it when people spoke to me like that when I _was_ a child," he snipped. "It's worse now. Fine. Whatever. Teyla dies because they screw up?" he jabbed a finger towards Zelenka, who tried not to take it personally, but did anyway. "It's not my fault," Rodney finished.

"Ooh, I think Mister Cranky-Pants needs a nap," the German scientist snickered in Zelenka's ear. The Czech gave a halfhearted smile, which disappeared when accusatory blue eyes focused on him. He'd heard.

Zelenka's face creased at the glare focused on him inside the otherwise sweet looking face, "Now, Rodney"

"You know what?" Rodney said suddenly, turning back to Weir. "That's it. I've had enough. I'm going. You all want to treat me like a child? Fine. I'll be a child. See ya later."

And with that, the four year old stormed back in the direction of Sheppard, ducked and walked under the table, emerged on the other side, walked right past the gaping colonel and out the doors which swung open instantly.

Elizabeth sighed heavily, slumping a little, then sat up. She looked at John, who was staring vaguely out the doors. He turned to look at her, his face uncertain as to whether he should follow the pint-sized terror or not. That last bit hadn't sounded good. But...well, frankly, he didn't really want to be the one to take care of Rodney, even though, somehow, he'd fallen into that role. But if he didn't, who would?

Elizabeth shook her head at him, reading his mind. "No, Colonel, I need you to stay and help us get organized. Doctor Heightmeyer can handle it. Kate?" Elizabeth turned around in her chair, to look into the shadowed corner.

Heightmeyer stood, smiled serenely at everyone, and then quickly strode to the doors after Rodney.

Elizabeth watched her go, then turned to face the room again. "Now, everyone, what exactly are we going to need to get that machine back here and working again?"

[{O}]

Kate stood in the hall near the transporter, hands on her hips, not hiding her confusion. Where had he gone?

"Looking for me?" Rodney's voice asked, turning her around. The boy was leaning against a wall at one end of the long corridor, arms crossed, watching her nonchalantly, one pink shoe crossed over the other and tapping the marble flooring.

"Ah, there you are, Rodney," Kate said, smiling sweetly and walking cautiously towards the small figure, as one would towards a skittish pet. "Yes, I was looking for you. What say you and I go someplace and have a nice chat. Maybe get something to eat. Would you like that?"

"Umm," the miniaturized scientist made a show of thinking about it, tapping a finger on his pudgy chin, "Not sure." He looked up at her as she got closer, blinking his big blue eyes endearingly. "Would there be tea and cookies?" he asked, his tone sugary sweet.

"If you'd like," Kate replied, completely sucked in by the innocence of his expression. "_Is_ that what you'd like?"

"Actually," McKay stood up off the wall, and took a couple steps back towards the bend in the hall in front of the transporter, "No. What I'd like...is to play a game."

"A game?" Kate paused, not sure she liked the sound of that. "What sort of game?"

"I think it's called," Rodney arched an eyebrow, "Catch me if you can." And he spun around and leapt into the transporter, jumping up to hit the pad, and then turning and smiling triumphantly as Kate squeaked in surprise and dove after him.

And failed. The doors slammed in front of her face before she could stop them, nearly taking her hand with it.

Scowling, the psychologist stepped into the now empty transporter a second later and hit the same point that Rodney had hit. He wasn't getting away from her that easily. If he thought he would win this, he had another thing coming!

[{O}]

People spilled out of the conference room like water released from a dam, in a rushing, babbling mess, leaving Elizabeth standing alone in the middle, watching them go. She crossed her arms, trying to wrap her mind around the look that Rodney had given her just before he left. He had been so angryand, to be fair, he had some right to bebut how else was he going to learn?

"John," she called, as the Colonel reached the doors, stopping him. Sheppard turned, his expression one of casual indifference. She knew it was a mask. He tended to deal with strange things like this even less well than she did, but he was putting up a good front. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He quirked an eyebrow, then shrugged. He looked around, letting the last of the stragglers disappear, before walking around the table to join her. Her arms tightened across her chest, less able to hide her concern.

"Yeah," he told her. "I'm fine. Worried about Teyla."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "Not Rodney?"

The colonel shrugged. "You heard Biro. He'll be fine. He's just angry, Elizabeth. He'll get over it." He gave a silly smile. "He's a big boy."

She gave him an exasperated look, then sighed. "I know. I just...I'm not really good with children. And he"

"He's not a child, Elizabeth," John assured her. "It's still Rodney. Just smaller and more likely to bite your kneecaps off." He threw out another smile. "I'm even thinking of investing in some kneepads."

"Yes, but...you know, if he stays this way, he won't be able to go out with you anymore. On missions."

John stared at her a moment, showing absolutely nothing on his face at her statement, the smile from earlier not fading. He almost looked frozen. Finally, he sighed, shrugging again, the smile replaced by a thin-lipped stare.

"Yeah, but we're not there yet," he stated firmly, maybe even a little harshly. "And I'm not giving up on Teyla either." He arched another eyebrow at her, tilting his head a little in dismissal, then turned to leave.

Elizabeth swallowed, lifting her chin a little as he walked away from her.

[{O}]

A/N: You'll have to give me a moment. I need to check out something in the back of the bunker


	5. 6:A Quiet Moment

**Stuck!**

**Chapter Six: A Quiet Moment **

Damn it. Kate Heightmeyer leaned back, banging her head lightly but repeatedly against the massive walls of Atlantis. This should have been a breeze. How many times had she been called up on to deal with traumatized children? How many cases did she have under her belt? How many times had she babysat for her sisters twins? She had survived those two through their terrible twos, their terroristic threes and their frightening fours before joining the S.G.C. and then committing to the team destined for the Pegasus Galaxy. Of all the things shed imagined dealing witha melon-headed four-year-old with the mind of a 37-year-old genius hadnt been one of them. 

She pushed away from the wall and tried to access the small storage rooms door again. Nothing. Rodney, she growled and stomped in place despite knowing she was sinking to his level. How had she let him lure her into a damn closet anyway and how the hell had he gotten out?

Scratching her head, Kate debated whether or not she should radio Dr. Weir and inform her that shed lost her charge and was locked in the closet, but she chose to wait. Hopefully, she could get out of here and find McKay before he got into too much trouble. He was still Rodney McKay after all, she was certain he wouldnt do anything stupid.

[{O}]

John hurried through the hallways leading towards the infirmary, he wanted to see Teyla and update her on what was going on, but he was also pretty worried about Rodney. It unnerved him not to know where the mini-genius was and he wondered if maybe he shouldnt have left Heightmeyer to handle McKay alone. Somehow, knowing Rodney as he did, Sheppard was certain that McKays last comment in the conference room had been a threat. A child with McKays knowledge loose in Atlantis? They were in serious trouble. 

Knowing he was acting a bit paranoid, John went ahead and ordered a thorough check of the jumper theyd be taking off world. He wouldnt put it past Rodney to try and stow away.

Pausing as he entered the infirmary, John took a deep breath, preparing himself for what hed find inside, for facing Teyla. As freaked out as he was about RodneyTeylas transformation scared the hell out of him.

Though the area where Teyla was resting was still dimly lit, Carson was already up and tending to the Athosian again. John could tell from the doctors posture that he was still hurting. Sheppard approached quietly and tried not to think about how much Teyla seemed resemble the old version of Weir. Common sense told him that Teyla was in much better health in her current state than Elizabeths ten-thousand-year-old double had been and yet, as he watched his friend respond slowly and stiffly to Becketts ministrations, he couldnt see a huge difference.

Doctor. Teyla. His greeting was quieter than he intended but it seemed to fit the somber setting.

Colonel, Carson answered without looking up from the blood pressure cuff around Teylas thin arm.

Colonel Sheppard. Teylas voice was raspy and he could sense the effort it took for her to sound as strong as she did. Ronon told me you are going back.

Yeah. John stepped closer and took her gnarled, wrinkled hand in his. This was the same hand that a day ago had wielded the stick that beat his ass in the gym. The others are going to study the device and find a means to fix it so we can get you and McKay back to your normal selves again. Once Zelenka and McKay get their hands on it, you know they'll figure it out. He saw the doubt sweep across her face before she smiled weakly. Her grip on his hand tightened infinitesimally.

Halling was here, she revealed.

John raised an eyebrow.

Major Lorne brought him back with him when he returned from the mainland to attend the meeting, Carson filled in as he ripped at the Velcro and removed the cuff from Teylas arm. From the Doctors tone, John wasnt sure Hallings visit had been a good thing. He wondered if Halling was mad at him for not telling the Athosian people about Teylas condition when hed been on the mainland with Rodney, but hed discussed it with Weir and Carson before flying to the mainland and together they had decided that until they had known more about Teylas prognosis, they hadnt wanted to cause any panic among the Athosians.

And?

He is preparing for Teylas breath caught and she choked on her words. Carson and John both stepped closer to support her.

Do you want the oxygen again? Beckett asked encouragingly but Teyla shook her head stubbornly.

No, she gasped. She focused on John but pulled her hand free of his and gestured to the table near her bed.

John followed her movements and took in the small tray with the three vessels and knew instantly what it symbolized. He remembered Weirs report about her encounter with the Athosians when his team had been stuck in the event horizon. They were vessels used in the ritual prayer for the dying. How the hell could Halling be so insensitive? He suppressed his urge now to pick the tray up and fling it against the far wall. Instead, he recaptured Teylas hand in his and made sure she was looking at him.

You listen to me, Teyla. We will figure this out, he said confidently. But I need you to do something for me.

Teylas soft crinkled features hardened into the warrior he remembered. Anything, she whispered.

John nodded and exchanged a look of concern with Carson. I need you to fight this. Tell Halling he can either wait to perform the ritual or to shove it up his ass, I dont care, but dont you give up on us, Teyla. I know youre tired, he acknowledged, careful to keep his voice even and not betray the emotions that fought to escape. But you are also the strongest woman I know. We just need a little time, can you give us that? He watched apprehensively as she processed what he was asking, weighing her Athosian beliefs against her faith in him and the scientists on Atlantis.

I will try, she answered finally and he could hear the conviction in her voice. She would fight as long and as hard as she was able.

Thats all I ask. John flashed a crooked grin. Ill come see you as soon as we get back.

[{O}]

Teyla watched as John talked privately with Carson a minute before leaving the room again. She wondered why he hadnt mentioned Dr. McKay's condition at all and hoped it meant that Rodney was in good health at least. Turning her head slowly, she let her gaze rest on the ceremonial urns beside the bed. Part of her wanted to be ready to face what appeared to be inevitable and the other part wanted to believe in Colonel Sheppard. Could they really reverse this process? This was the very nightmare she had lived with since she was old enough to understand what the Wraith were. Mere hours ago, shed been strong and healthy and nownow there was barely enough strength left in her to breathe. Was this what her father had felt? Had the Wraith fed on him at once or had they dragged it out, aging him over time? Had he known these aches and pains? Had he felt the same fear, that any minute now, she wouldnt be able to draw another breath? Could she keep her promise to Sheppard?

She felt more than saw Halling step from the shadowed section of the infirmary. He held an unlit candle and from the scowl on his face she knew that he had been lurking long enough to hear her conversation with the Colonel.

She didnt want to face the judgmentshe read in Hallings eyes.

I brought this for you. He held up the candle. But they will not allow me to light it.

Teyla watched as he gracefully placed the candle next to the tray of urns, then turned his focus on her.

You would forsake your beliefsfor them? he asked, pinning her with the intensity of his question.

Teyla suddenly felt as old as she knew she looked. Do you not want me to hope for a cure? she questioned back.

There is no cure from a wraith feeding.

I was not fed upon, Teyla snapped defensively at his bluntness.

Halling shook his head and stepped closer to the bed. There is no difference in what I see before me.

Anger stirred within her at his brutality. Why could he not simply understand? She just wanted a chance to live! Then you are blind, she hissed, but even as she spoke she felt her strength draining. She blinked back tears of frustration. How could she be so weak in such a small amount of time?

Halling gently placed his hand on her forehead. I will wait, Teyla Emmagan. But I will not abandon our beliefs.

I am not asking you to, she assured as her eyes grew to heavy to keep open. It was harder to breathe now and her anger boiled with no outlet. She was stronger than this. 

When they tarry, I will return with others for prayer.

She could hear Carsons lilting voice as Hallings faded and felt Carson's warm, reassuring grip on her wrist. She felt a sudden rush of air and her struggle to breathe seemed to ease a bit. Letting herself block out Halling and Carson, she focused on Johns earlier words and her promise to him. She would fight. She would not give up just because the battle had become fierce and tiring. She would hold on for themand for herself.

[{O}]

A/N: I thought I'd heard something banging around in the back of the bunker, but it was only a muskrat. All is still well. It is time to leave me another review


	6. 7:The Power of Puppy Dog Eyes

**Stuck!**

**Chapter Seven: The Power of Puppy Dog Eyes**

Ronon Dex walked up the ramp to the jumper, dropping the last bag of gear next to the pile that already sat on one side of the cargo area.

John looked up at him in surprise. I thought you were going to stay with Teyla?

The big man gave him a sheepish grin. She told me I was annoying her and that she didnt need anybody watching her sleep. He shrugged, his expression turning grim. Theres nothing I can do for her here. Figured Id be more use on the mission.

We are ready, Colonel, Radek Zelenka said, interrupting his conversation.

Casting a doubtful look at the large collection of equipment the scientists had loaded, John asked, You sure all this stuff is necessary?

Zelenka nodded. Better too much than not enough.

John chuckled. Too true, Doc. His smile faded, though, when he thought of Teylas withered face and the trust that she had placed in him. They simply had to find a way to fix this. There was no other acceptable outcome.

[{O}]

At the Hall of Healing, Radek picked up another damaged crystal, muttering to himself as he tried to determine its purpose. He held it up to the light, frowning at the fracture that disrupted its uniform composition. With a sigh, he made some notes on his laptop and labeled the piece before placing it in gently into a padded container.

It was quiet in the room, Colonel Sheppard having sent the rest of the scientists to study the writings and equipment in the other rooms in the facility. Radek was glad of this, since it afforded him the peace he needed to do a more careful and thorough job.

He was already concentrating on the next piece of the device when a faint sound behind him disrupted the silence. Without looking up, Radek said, Everything is fine, Colonel.

Not the Colonel, came a muffled voice he was starting to know all too well.

Whipping his head around, Radek stared with widening eyes as a small, tousled head popped out of a duffel bag. The head was quickly followed by the rest of a four-year-old body. Big blue eyes scanned the area before coming to rest on him.

What, youve never seen someone hitch a ride in luggage before? Rodney said smugly. If I have to be this size, I might as well take advantage of it. He winced and rubbed his backside. Though you people really need to treat your luggage a little better. Ive got bruises everywhere.

Radek closed his mouth and slowly shook his head. We scanned the jumper with the life signs detectors. How did you avoid them?

Oh please, Rodney snorted. That was childs play. He paused, wrinkling his button nose as he realized what he said. I simply reprogrammed them to ignore anything with a body mass under fifty pounds.

Radek chuckled, unsurprised at his friends ingenuity. You should not be here. Colonel Sheppard will not be happy.

Piffle, Rodney said, waving a hand dismissively. Someone has to make sure this gets done right, he said indignantly, reaching for some tools.

Radek hissed a stream of curses in his native language, but didnt attempt to stop Rodney from assisting.

So, what have you got so far? Rodney rubbed his hands together eagerly.

Radek had to smile. Rodney looked like a child on Christmas morning, eager to open his presents. His excitement was almost contagious.

Well? Rodney attempted his usual irritated finger-snap, but his pudgy little hands wouldnt cooperate. He frowned and glared at them as though he could intimidate them into submission.

I am still cataloguing the pieces, Radek explained, drawing Rodneys attention away from his hands.

Pulling the laptop closer, Rodney quickly scanned the data, and then moved to the other side of the wreckage. Ill start on these.

Radek didnt bother to protest. It wouldnt do any good and Rodneys help would get it done that much faster. The two of them worked together quietly for some time, Rodney ducking behind the machinery whenever Sheppard or Ronon poked a head in to check on Zelenka.

Ow! Rodney pulled his hand out of the machine and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

Whats wrong?

Cuh mah fingah, Rodney said around the digit in his mouth.

Grinning, Radek picked up his camera and snapped several pictures of Rodney sucking his thumb.

Et tu, Radek? Rodney threw a baby-glare at his fellow scientist. A little sympathy wouldnt kill you.

All you need now is teddy bear, Radek snickered.

Kiss my ass, Rodney hissed in his four-year-old voice, making Radek laugh even harder.

Rodney turned away. It was hard to be intimidating when you were barely over three feet tall. He stared at his thumb closely, then sighed. My hands arent working right. I think this damn machine took away more than years. He kicked at the machine angrily, wincing when his foot made contact with the solid metal frame of one of the hospital beds.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Rodney hopped around on one foot, his hands wrapped around the other one.

Radek sighed, feeling s sudden urge to introduce Rodneys mouth to a bar of soap. Rodney, your hands are four years old, like the rest of your body. Children do not have the same motor skills as adults.

Rodney sat down heavily, his head hanging low. What if Im stuck this way?

The sad blue eyes and lost expression would have melted even the hardest of hearts. Radek almost reached over to hug him, but quickly remembered that this was Rodney, a prickly astrophysicist and not an innocent child. He was thankful Rodney had not noticed the slip. God help them all if he ever figured out the power of that doe-eyed expression.

Rodney shook his head at Radeks lack of response and crawled back into the pile of wreckage.

Watching him go, Radek prayed fervently to any deity he could think of that they would find a way to fix this.

[{O}]

Hey, I think I found the main control module! Rodney shouted. Cradling it gently in his small hands, he wiggled his way back out of the tangled circuits. It looks intact. He set it gently on the floor next to the other scientist. "Meaning we just need to find a way to replace the crystals that differentiate the..." He looked up finally, belatedly noticing the look of warning on Radeks face. What?

Radek didnt get a chance to answer before Rodney found himself suddenly airborne.

[{O}]

Sheppard breathed deeply of the fresh air. It really was one of the more pleasant planets they had visited, despite the recent mishap. He was really hoping Zelenka could figure out how to fix that, since the thought of dealing with a four-year-old McKay for any length of time was enough to make a grown man run away screaming. And speaking of screaming...

The piercing shriek made the hairs on the back of Johns neck stand on end. He spun in place and sprinted toward the source of the sound. Barreling into the facility, he skidded to a stop beside Dr. Zelenka. What the hell?

John gaped. The scene before him was something he never expected-or wanted-to see outside of a drug-induced hallucination. Ronon Dex was standing calmly beside the wreckage of the Ancient device. Dangling from his outstretched arm was Rodney McKay in the midst of a full-blown hissy fit.

Put me down put me down put me down put me down! Rodney hollered, his tiny arms and legs flailing as he tried to escape.

John winced as the high-pitched wails stabbed straight into his brain. Ronon seemed amused by the situation, as did Zelenka, who was trying vainly to stifle his laughter. Rubbing a hand over his weary face, John muttered, Why me? before putting on a stern expression.

McKay! he yelled in his command voice.

Silence immediately descended.

Moving closer, John glared at the red-faced imp who, thanks to Ronon, was now at eye level. You want to tell me what the hell youre doing here?

There was a flicker of fear in Rodneys eyes before the familiar McKay arrogance too over. If I have to tell you, then youre a lot dumber than I thought.

John restrained the urge to strangle the little brat, deciding that McKays parents must have been saints to put up with him.

You were expressly forbidden from going off-world, Rodney, John said. Remember what happened last time you ignored everyone elses opinions?

Rodneys expression immediately fell and he went limp in Ronons grasp.

Looking at Rodneys sad little face, John felt as though hed just kicked a puppy. He forced himself to look away. Dammit, Rodney. Cant you just do as we ask, for once?

I cant leave this to anyone else, Rodney said quietly.

Look, I know how you feel, but...

You cant know how I feel! Rodney yelled, renewing his efforts to free himself from Ronons grasp. You dont have people talking to you like you dont have a brain in your head, refusing to look at you in the eye. And nobodys making you wear stupid clothes. He waved a foot in Johns face. Im wearing pink shoes, for Gods sake.

Zelenka finally lost it and started laughing.

Rodneys attempt at a threatening glare fell flat on his chubby, pink-cheeked face.

John tried to stifle a laugh, but failed, joining Zelenka and Ronon in laughing at Rodneys new wardrobe.

Oh shut up, Rodney said, scrunching his face up in an attempt at a scowl that only made him look more adorable.

Once their laughter had abated, John said, Lets get packed up and get back to Atlantis.

Wait, Colonel, Radek said. Rodney is here now, so let us just make use of his skills.

Doc...

It is taking much less time with his help, Radek added.

John shared a look with Ronon, who merely smirked and flipped Rodney over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Rodney gave an indignant squawk. Put me down, you hairy behemoth!

At Johns nod, Ronon relented and lowered Rodney to the ground. There you go, little man.

Rodney glowered at him. Youre going to pay for that. All of you are going to pay.

John pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache starting to brew. He looked over at Ronon. How can someone so small be such a big pain in the ass?

[{O}]

A/N: That is all you will read today. I need to go milk my cow.


	7. 8:Rodneysitting

**Stuck!**

** Chapter Eight: Rodney-Sitting**

The salvage operation on the Ancient shrink-o-matic took most of the afternoon. Sheppard and Dex passed the time with perimeter patrols and alternating shifts of what the colonel had dubbed "Rodney-sitting."

Sheppard sidestepped a Wraith skeleton and drew in a lungful of cool forest air, selfishly grateful that it was Dex, and not him, stuck indoors with mini-McKay right now.

Every tool that slipped out of his too-small fingers, every absent-minded pat on the head from one of his former underlings, drove McKay a little more berserk. The last time Sheppard checked on him, he was bouncing off the walls-unable to sit still, unable to concentrate on a problem long enough to work out a solution. The scientist's brilliant mind was in a losing fight with the child's hyperactive body. It also meant he was getting harder to control.

The sound of muffled cursing on the mountain trail caught Sheppard's attention. He grinned as the voice got louder and closer and took on a noticeable Scottish burr.

The young Marine he'd sent back to the Gate for the scheduled check-in with Atlantis trudged into view. Behind him stomped Carson Beckett, swearing like a fishwife. Sheppard took a prudent step back as the doctor barreled by him, muttering something about paddling somebody's little britches.

He turned and cocked an eyebrow at the corporal. "Let me guess. Dr. Weir's not happy either."

The soldier swallowed, looking a bit wild-eyed. "No sir. Not very happy at all."

Sheppard sighed and followed Beckett into the medical center. He'd bought McKay as much time as he could.

[{O}]

The pieces did not fit. Rodney sighed and shuffled the broken bits of crystal into a slightly different pattern on the floor before him. He was sprawled on his belly with his chin propped on one fist and his pinkish shoes kicking absently in the air.

He squinted at the new arrangement. It still didn't look like it would fit the empty slot in the half-melted control panel Zelenka was fussing over. In fact, it looked more like a...dinosaur. Rodney nibbled on his lower lip and painstakingly shifted a few fragments into the outline of a gaping, pointy-toothed maw. Grrrargh, dinosaur.

Satisfied, he looked around, ready for the next project.

"What?" he snapped at Zelenka and the knot of technicians who were standing around, staring at him. He scrambled to his feet and flapped his hands at them, gesturing wildly. "Don't you people have work to do? Ancient fountains of youth to fix? If this little assignment is too much for you, I'm sure we could send for Beckett. Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll trigger some other piece of equipment and shrink me down to a fetus!"

And suddenly he was airborne again. Before he could so much as yelp, Rodney found himself dangling nose-to-nose with a red-faced and furious Beckett.

"Carson," he wheezed, giving the doctor what he hoped was a winning smile. "What brings you here?"

Without a word, Beckett tucked the underage scientist under his arm and headed for the exit.

Sheppard intercepted them. McKay's howls of protest were taking on a frantic note. If it had been an ordinary child, he would have said the 4-year-old was working himself into a good old fashioned floor-kicking tantrum.

Beckett halted, fighting to keep hold of the small form as it flailed and twisted, trying to break his grip and slither to freedom. Sharp tiny nails dug into his forearm and pink heels beat a tattoo against his ribcage. Sheppard held up a warning hand and gently extricated Rodney, setting him carefully on the floor, feet-first.

"Take it easy, Doc," he said, keeping his tone mild as McKay scooted around him, out of grabbing distance. "I think Rodney's had enough piggyback rides for one day."

For a minute, he thought Beckett was going to pitch a fit of his own.

Instead, the doctor seemed to deflate, sliding down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, eye-level with McKay. He rubbed dolefully at his temples. "Aye," he sighed, looking wan and wrung-out now that he wasn't fueled by adrenaline and fear for his missing patient. "I'm sorry I grabbed you like that, Rodney. I don't know what I was thinking."

McKay uncrossed his arms and his dimpled little chin lost its belligerent tilt. With a sigh of his own, he mimicked Carson's slide to the floor. His childish face twisted into a familiar crooked smile.

"Well, yes, I should hope so," he mumbled. He snuck a peek up at Sheppard, hovering over him, then back at Zelenka and the watching scientists. "Although I suppose I might not be dealing with this situation in the most, er, mature fashion. Either. On occasion."

"You never should have left Atlantis, Rodney," Beckett said softly. "Your body's undergone a tremendous shock and I need you where I can monitor your condition. To say nothing of the fact that you violated a direct order from Dr. Weir when you snuck off like that."

McKay paled slightly at that reminder, while Sheppard and Beckett looked suddenly much more cheerful.

"Okay guys!" Sheppard spun on his heel and headed toward Zelenka's crew, clapping his hands to get their attention. "Load up the jumper with everything you're going to need. It's time to get back to Atlantis."

[{O}]

Elizabeth Weir and Kate Heightmeyer stood shoulder-to-shoulder, glaring daggers at the Puddle Jumper as it cruised through the Gate.

"They look mad," Dex observed, leaning casually over the back of the co-pilot's seat as he studied the stony visages of the two women. As the little craft began its smooth rise to the jumper bay, Dex reached down and rested a steadying hand on the figure curled up asleep in the co-pilot's chair.

In the typical fashion of four-year-olds, McKay had run himself ragged and now napped like the dead. The ship settled into its berth and the back hatch opened. Beckett, who was no happier going through the Gate on a ship than he was on foot, relaxed his death grip on the edge of his seat and moved toward his patient.

He checked McKay's pulse and rested a hand against his forehead for a moment, frowning slightly at the heat he felt there. "Just sleeping," he said, keeping his voice low as the technicians began shifting crates of equipment and salvaged parts off the ship. "But it looks like Rodney's going to be needing at least one more pig-a-back ride today. Colonel? If you'd do the honors?"

Someday, Sheppard thought ruefully, he'd learn not to tangle with Beckett. With exaggerated care, he hoisted up McKay, who flopped in his arms, boneless as a rag doll.

Weir and Heightmeyer were waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. Heightmeyer, he noticed, had dust smudged across her chin and what looked like cobwebs clinging to her hair.

Weir opened her mouth and drew a deep breath - which caught in her throat as Ronon Dex suddenly loomed over her, scowling.

"Shhh," the warrior admonished, holding a finger to his lips. "The little man is sleeping."

Shamelessly, Sheppard pivoted to give the women a good look at the flushed, sleeping and utterly adorable face of Rodney McKay as it lolled against his shoulder.

Weir's jaw clenched. Her teeth ground audibly and a tiny muscle jumped and twitched on her jawline as she took in the sight. Heightmeyer's eyes bulged and she bit back a noise that sounded suspiciously like "awwwww."

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." Carson gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "I really do need to get Rodney to the infirmary."

The tic moved from Weir's jaw line to her left eyelid. "Fine," she ground out. "Dr. Heightmeyer and I were just finalizing a few plans for Dr. McKay's immediate future."

Sheppard, Dex and Beckett hustled the sleeping child off to the infirmary with that ominous thought hanging over their heads.

[{O}]

One thing hadn't changed in the year and a half since they reoccupied Atlantis. The city could still get damn creepy at night. Especially in the infirmary, when the dim lights started casting weird shadows over the walls.

Rodney shivered and tucked his feet under the hem of his oversized hospital gown.

He no longer fit in his own world. Yesterday, he could have hopped off the infirmary bed and headed back to his lab. Now, the drop to the floor looked more like a leap off a two-story building. There was a laptop on the bedside table, but he couldn't quite reach it and his stupid baby fingers couldn't span the keyboard anyway.

To top it all, his puny new body had betrayed him again-falling asleep in the middle of a mission and leaving him to wake up marooned on an impossibly tall bed in the middle of a deserted infirmary, dressed in nothing but a butt-baring hospital gown. Mortifying.

A soft cough reminded him that the infirmary wasn't entirely empty.

"Teyla?" he whispered, turning to study the huddled figure on the neighboring bed. "You all right?"

The Athosian's withered face still held traces of its former beauty, more so when she smiled. Flapping a hand to wave away his concern, she reached for the glass of water on the bedside table. Her fingertips brushed the plastic and set the cup bouncing to the floor. Teyla slumped back against the pillows.

"I am still here, Rodney," she said softly. "I am not going anywhere."

Rodney was already wriggling off the bed, his bare butt dangling over the abyss. "Good," he grunted, sliding gracelessly over the edge of the mattress until he was hanging on mainly by his fingernails and his chin. "Stay...right-oof!"

He fell, landing in a heap on the chilly infirmary floor. He picked himself up and cast a furtive look around.

Beckett was in his office, squinting at a computer screen as if the light hurt his eyes. An oversized bottle of aspirin, half-empty, rested by his elbow. Sheppard was sacked out on a bed across the aisle, snoring softly.

Rodney padded over to Teyla, dusted off the cup and clambered up on the bedside chair. With great care, he hefted the monstrously oversized water pitcher, refilled the glass without too much spillage and offered it to her.

"Thank you," she whispered, smiling around the rim of the cup. Her eyes hadn't changed, Rodney realized. It was still Teyla in there, with the same serene gaze and wry twinkle in her eye.

It made him wonder what the others saw when they looked into his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, hearing his reedy new voice break over the words. "I never wanted this. I'd give these years back to you right now if I could. In a heartbeat."

Teyla reached out to his shoulder. Her grip felt as light and fragile as a November leaf, but Rodney let her tug him forward until their foreheads touched.

"They will find a way to help us," she said, certainty shining in her eyes. "You will make certain of that."

[{O}]

A/N: Another chapter deserving of many reviews. Not that I'm asking or anything. I think my cow is calling for me.


	8. 9:Sent to the Corner

**Stuck!**

** Chapter Nine Sent to the Corner**

Morning dawned bright and terrible on Atlantis.

"That's a very nice picture you're drawing there, Rodney."

Heightmeyer's voice oozed sincerity. McKay wasn't buying it. Art therapy, his ass. The psychologist was getting way too much enjoyment out of this exercise. Which was utterly unfair. Honestly, how was it his fault that she sat in that closet for three hours before she swallowed her pride and radioed for help?

"Can you tell me a little bit about your drawing?" Heightmeyer pressed cheerfully ahead with her child psychology spiel.

McKay shot her a sour look, set down the colored pencil and jabbed a finger at the sketch.

"This," he said, "is a diagram of one of the control panels we're going to have to reverse-engineer if we're to have the slightest prayer of getting me back into my own body before I hit puberty again."

"I see," Heightmeyer said, studying the sketch with interest. "And what about this bit you sketched over here in the corner?"

"That? That is a kitty cat." McKay sat back and crossed his arms, daring her to say anything.

Heightmeyer pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. McKay turned away to glare around at the room where he'd been banished since breakfast. It was a bright, airy place, decorated in soothing pastels and cheery primary colors rather than the usual Ancient decorating palate of white on white on white. Low shelves were cluttered with mysterious, brightly colored objects.

McKay sat at one of the low, round tables scattered around the room, in a chair perfectly scaled for a four-year-old. Heightmeyer had crammed herself into a neighboring chair, unfazed by the fact that she was sitting so close to the ground that her knees almost hit her chin.

He rolled his eyes and noticed for the first time that the stained glass windows were set in a colorful abstract pattern that looked suspiciously like...sheep. Abstract sheep cavorting merrily over abstract hills.

He should have padlocked Heightmeyer in that closet and thrown away the key. He still couldn't believe she'd shut him away in an Ancient nursery.

With a kittenish snarl, he angled his little chair away from the psychiatrist and reached for the hand-held radio that had replaced his ill-fitting headset. He paged Zelenka and launched into a detailed description of the control panel prototype. The two scientists batted ideas back and forth for a while, as McKay took notes in orange crayon. He also added a second kitty-cat to the tableau.

"Rodney? Rodney?"

"Huh?" McKay's attention jerked back from the paper and his efforts to get the stripes just right on his tabby cat. He stared at the radio, then blushed as it crackled with another worried call from Zelenka. Heightmeyer, damn her, was watching him with narrowed eyes.

"Right," he said, trying to cover his confusion. "As I was saying. I really think I should come down to the labs. I need to oversee"

"No!" Heightmeyer and Zelenka broke in simultaneously.

McKay froze. "But" He waved at the schematic on the drawing pad.

Kate leaned over and gently drew the paper away from him, folding it carefully to put in her pocket. "I'll make sure Dr. Zelenka gets your notes."

"I believe you have given us enough to make a good start, Rodney," Zelenka's voice crackled across the radio. "For now, you should rest. I will let your know the moment there is any progress to report."

"Rest? But I don't need rest! I need to"

"I will call if we make progress. I promise. Now, we have much work to do. I will call if we need you. Zelenka out." And the connection was cut.

"No!" McKay stormed, hurling away the radio and its staticky platitudes. It skidded off the table and hit the floor with a crunch. McKay crossed his arms and slouched lower in his chair, fuming.

Heightmeyer reached out but Rodney swatted her hand away before it could pat him on the head.

"Dr. McKay, please understandwe're not keeping you here as punishment," she said, pulling her hands back out of smacking distance. "We thought you'd be more comfortable working in a room where you could sit comfortably on the furniture. And of course, the computers in this room are all designed with children in mind..."

"Ah yes," McKay snapped. "That explains why I can only call up programs about cavorting sheep when I try to tap into the Ancient database. But you're so right! The chairs in my lab are too tall and the chairs in my room are too soft but these chairs" He gave his squatty blue chair a vicious kick. "Are just right. So why don't you toddle off, Goldilocks, and make me some nice porridge?"

Heightmeyer threw up her hands, extricated herself from her chair with a grunt, and left.

The door snicked shut behind her. It was a half door, so that anyone tall could peer over the top to check on him, but it effectively locked anyone four feet tall or shorter inside the room. McKay eyed the exit, trying to decide whether it was worth his time to try to override the room's child-proof locksthat is, if he could reach them (they were on the outside of the door). On the other hand, this was his first real chance to get some work done without someone hovering over him, fighting the urge to pinch his cheeks. Why did adults always want to pinch children's cheeks? He'd never wanted to pinch a child's cheeks...hell, he didn't even like touching the things. God knows what nasty germs and viruses they were carrying around. He also didn't understand why adults always treated children like they were idiots. He never did. He didn't have patience for children because they asked too many questions, and it got on his nerves. Children were annoying. But he'd never talk to a child like it was stupid, as he saw most adults do. And now they were doing it to him, even knowing that it was him they were talking to. Damn it.

With a sigh, McKay pulled a fresh sheet of paper out of the stack and doodled a few lines of a formula that might or might not act as a polymer to reconnect the shattered crystal, but found his attention wandering.

His heels drummed against the chair legs as he squirmed restlessly. He'd forgotten the raw energy that came with childhood. He felt like he could run laps around Atlantis. He wanted to run laps around Atlantis.

He hadn't been this wired since...well, since Ford and his merry band of pinheads got him hooked on Wraith enzyme. Except this wasn't a drug. This was Teyla's life force he could feel buzzing along his nerve endings.

Horrified by that thought, he bounced out of the chair and jittered over to the shelves, looking for something to keep himself occupied.

He waved a hand over a brightly colored cube and jumped back as a side panel popped open, disgorging a small avalanche of artifacts. On top of the pile was a bright silver cylinder a toy puddle jumper, rendered perfectly to scale. It flashed to life under his touch and slowly levitated until it was hovering in front of his nose.

McKay bit back an undignified squeal and glanced toward the toy pile, looking for the remote control. The little jumper zipped off and dive-bombed the pile, acting on his whim. McKay blinked, then thought about the other side of the room. The puddle jumper rocketed away to a far corner. He tried visualizing loop-de-loops, and danced in delight as the tiny craft went soaring and corkscrewing around the playroom.

What other wonders did the Ancients stash in their toy chests? He dived toward the pile, with the puddle jumper in hot pursuit. Either his control over his artificial gene was getting better, or the toys were a lot less finicky than most Ancient devices.

In short order, he had the contents of the chest sorted into three piles. One for objects of redeeming scientific value or overwhelming coolnessthe puddle jumper hovered proudly over this stack. The discard pile was considerably larger, cluttered with baubles and noisemakers and at least one Ancient tea party set.

He reached toward the third piletoys of unknown function or indeterminate purpose. He rolled one jewel-like object back and forth between his pudgy fingers. It looked a bit like his old personal shield, done in hues of hot pink and red. He thought hard at the device, then pocketed it with a shrug when it refused to light up.

He turned back to the nearly empty toy chest and fished out a stuffed animal. It was gray-green and fluffy and looked a bit like a cross between a praying mantis and a yak. McKay chucked the thing onto the discard pile with a shudder. Hadn't the Ancients ever heard of a teddy bear?

There was a flash and a sudden pulse of heat from the device in his pocket...and McKay found himself staring into the beady button eyes of a stuffed brown bear that had materialized out of nowhere on the floor beside him.

McKay poked the bear. It seemed solid enough. He picked it up, grimacing as if he expected the thing to come to life and try to eat his face. The bear just flopped endearingly, stitched mouth curved in an insipid smile.

Slowly, he pulled the Ancient gadget out of his pocket and thought, very carefully, about a nice turkey sandwich.

Turkey on soft Wonderbread with extra Miracle Whip materialized in a puff of displaced air.

McKay stared at the sandwich. He stared at the glowing pink gizmo. A wide, speculative smile spread across his face.

[{O}]

A/N: The cow continues to moo. She sounds discontent. Leave me reviews and I shall read them to her during the milking.


	9. 10:Enter the Toymaker

**Stuck!**

** Chapter Ten: Enter The Toymaker**

A/N: To everyone who is leaving me reviews. I love them! I read your comments out loud to Julie the cow and we adore your every bit of feedback - even the odd ones. We laugh sometimes. Well, I'm the one who laughs, she mostly lows, but she does it with this humorous glint in her eye. Sometimes we cry with joy. Well, I cry - she chews her cud. Funny, but she's been ignoring me lately when I read the reviews. Why, Julie? Why are you so distant to me?

A/N: To everyone who is reading this story and not reviewing - that's like stealing - and you don't want to know what we do to thieves on the Genii homeworld.

[{O}]

Ten minutes later, the room was littered with every manner of childish trip-trap and gew-gaw that had ever been on McKays wish list when he was growing up. Not only did massive erector sets and tinker-toy canisters fill the room (much bigger and more comprehensive than anything ever sold in stores), but also all the things hed secretly lusted for, but couldnt even dream of having Stretch Armstrong (and his aptly named arch-nemesis Stretch Monster), Rockem Sockem Robots, GI Joes (with fuzzy hair, Kung-Fu grip and every imaginable accessory); Lionel Trains that coursed back and forth and up and over everything on an incredibly complex layout of tracks and with happy little villages accompanying the routes.

Models of Tie-Fighters and X-Wings from Star Wars (the original) and Vipers from Battlestar Galactica (the original) hung in the air above his head. A working version of Twiki the robot from Buck Rogers (which was already annoying him) wandered about, running into things. And Doctor Whos TARDIS sat in one corner (frustratingly like a police box inside). It took him nowhere, but it did make a comforting wheezing sound when it disappeared and reappeared on command.

Hed been a little surprised by his own choices and had tried to call up things of a more grown-up nature, but every attempt at P-90s or a downsized laptop or data pad brought more toys with child-safe edges and flashy lights. Frustrating, but fun at the same time.

There was a thump, and he stopped what he was doing, looking expectantly toward the door. Someone was coming to check up on him. Sheppard no doubt! Hed show him the puddle jumper toy! The Colonel would love it! They could fly it around the room. Or maybe Carson was coming, with things to stick and prod him with. Ha! He could just imagine what Beckett would say upon seeing all this. Or it could be Ronon marching up the hallway. Ronon would tell him how Teyla wasand wouldnt lie about it. Ronon wouldnt lie, would he?

Rodney put on a cherubic look to distract them from the mess of toysbut seconds passed and no one cameand his smile dropped. It was just the damn robot, banging around behind the train. Of coursenobody would bother to come by to see him.

Still, he glanced at his watch, it had been a couple of hours since Heightmeyer left, and it was now nearing noon, someone would be by soon with lunch, right?

[{O}]

Halling, Weir greeted as she moved through the mess hall with her tray.

The Athosian looked up from his simple lunch, smiling warmly. Dr. Weir, he voiced softly as he pushed back his chair to stand. It is good to see you.

Always a pleasure, Weir returned civilly, trying not to feel intimidated by his incredible height. He gestured to the empty seat beside his, and Elizabeth accepted the invitation. It would be nice, she decided, to have a nice quiet lunch with the mild man. For once, she wouldnt have to hold a conference and discuss city business. She could simply sit and eat with a friend.

The Athosian smiled once they were both settled. You have two of everything, he pointed out as he eyed her tray.

Smiling, Weir told him, I was going to see Rodney. I thought he might be hungry.

Halling took on an uncomfortable look. Oh, I did not mean to intrude. I will not keep you.

With a wave of her hand, Weir dismissed his comment. Someone should be checking up on him soon. I just thought Id stop by for a moment to talk. You know, hes always hungry. I'm sure he wouldnt mind another lunch. She sighed, and paused before she continued, leaning close to the man, But honestly, Ive been dreading the idea, just a bit.

Oh?

He is she started, and hesitated, not knowing how to complete her thought.

He is not himself, Halling completed. She nodded, and he spoke again. I have met him, you recall. And he looked a little hurt as he commented, I did not know it was him at the time, due to the deception, of course.

Yes...and I'm sorry about that, Halling, Weir apologized genuinely, grimacing inwardly at being caught at this. At that point, we didnt know what was happening with himor with Teyla. We felt it best to keep things quiet until we knew more.

Of course, Halling responded, not sounding convinced. Teyla, he repeated. Teyla is not well. She should have her people with her. There are certain rituals that must be observed to ensure that she leaves this life peacefully. He picked up his fork and held it halfheartedly for a moment. She needs her people, and yet I am not wanted at her bedside.

Thats not the case, Weir said quickly. Of course you are welcome to stay with her.

But the rituals are not allowed, he said stiffly. I have been forbidden. Colonel Sheppard is against our sacred teachings and has ordered her to fight instead of listen to the words made sacred by her elders.

Weir shifted her jaw, Yes, Halling, we want her to fight. We do not want her to give up. Our people believe she can be returned to heath and are doing everything they can for her.

Halling furrowed his brow and bowed his head. His voice became strangely strangled as he spoke, It is as if she has been fed upon by a Wraith. He looked up, staring out from under his long hair. Do you understand what that means to our people?

With a slight frown, Weir stated, I believe we understand very well. We have lost several of our people to

With a tskking sound that didnt really fit him, Halling cut her off. You have been here only a moment, he said quietly. You have been with us, with our terrors, for only a heartbeat. He fiddled with the fork, poking at something that may have been naked linguini noodles. We have lived for our entire lifetime, for generations, for age upon age. The Wraith cloud our every story, they edge our every dream. We have lived with the Wraith on our breath.

Trying to smile congenially, Weir reminded him, But remember, she has not been fed upon by the Wraith. She has been badly affected by an Ancient device.

Hallings face pinched as if pained. The Ancients are not at fault. It was the meddling of others.

Sighing, Weir went on. We have our people working on the situation and they WILL discover the solution. Have faith, Halling. Have faith in us.

The man hunched over his dull looking pasta. No one has ever recovered from a Wraith feeding.

Not trying to correct him again, Weir assured, We will find the way.

You believe that everything comes easy. You will learn differently. Her heath will continue to falter and it shall be on your head if she dies without the proper ceremonies. Unable to eat any more from his plate, Halling shoved back his tray, saying, You are but children. You do not understand. And he stood, leaving the tray behind to clomp out of the room like a giant, angered.

With a sigh, Weir regarded her tray and found that she had lost her appetite, too. So far, they had found nothing to help either Teyla or Rodney. She knew that the moment she faced Rodney, hed fill her with an endless stream of questions, demanding answers, and getting nothing worthwhileand then hed gaze up at her with those puppy-dog eyes and she knew she would be helpless against them. She just couldn't handle him like this.

No. She couldn't face him yet. She needed answersshe needed to come well armed and ready for himshe needed to have this solvednow.

She stood slowly and left the two lunch trays behind to return to her office and get back to work.

[{O}]

He was bored alreadybored with the toys he created, so he went in search of more interesting ancient devices. Certainly there were more remote controlled ships in here! Hed found several already and wanted an entire armada!

He squinted as he went through the remaining cabinets, trying to ignore the headache that was returning, growing insistent. It had been there in the back of his mind when he woke up, but, then, it had been easy to ignore. Now, it was taking more effort. Probably a caffeine headachefor some reason, they wouldn't let him have coffee. Sadists. Forcing it back again, he continued to add to his previous pilesmore Ancient toys of perplexing purpose, and far too many plush toys. He dug through the stack of them, discovering things that vaguely reminded him of things from earthbut mostly not. Odd shaped duckies and things-like-fluffy-sheep were piled on the floor. When he found something that look strangely like a yellow house cat with purple spots, he tucked it under his arm and toted it around with him as he continued his treasure hunt.

Rodney continued to root through the drawers, pulling out yet another stuffed toy by its foot, and froze as it came clear. For the love of he uttered, turning it about to get a better look. It was humanoid in shape, all done in whites and blacks and grays, stringy hair, a grimace of a mouth and disconcerting eyesa Wraithno doubt about it. A stuffy-fluffy Wraith to cuddle? Maybe it was meant to teach kids how to defend themselves from it? Still, seriously weird. He found himself flinching away from it.

It was worse than the puffy clown hed received for Christmas one yeara kindly gift from one of his fathers friends. Hed been told to pretend he liked it and thank the pretty woman who gave it. God, how hed hated the thing. It had sat on a chair in his room for monthsstaring at himridiculing himseeing his every flaw. Hed wanted to get rid of it, but his father had insisted it remain so that the lovely lady would see it when she came by the house again. It had disappeared suddenly after his mother and father had had a rather intense argument.

Annoyed, he flung LilWraithy from him, but the thing went no further than a few feet. It landed on its back, one knee jauntily up, grinning hideously at the ceiling. Rodney kicked it until it was face down. He clutched the cat to his chest and muttered, Its just a stupid toy.

From somewhere in the mounds of stuff, the faux Twiki muttered an annoying Beeda-Beeda, just a toy.

Stupid robot. Its annoying voice was the only one hed heard since hed been dumped here. No one was ever coming. He turned toward the robot and glared. No Sheppardno Beckettnot even Ronon. The hologram had been his only company. Why hadnt anyone bothered to check up on him?

The robot clattered stupidly. Rodney hated it.

Rodney kicked the Wraith toy again, forcing it into the corner, and then gave it a stomp for good measure. He didnt need any of them. If nobody found the time to come by and see himwell, good for them. He was doing just fine here by himself.

He turned his back on the toy Wraith and looked about the room, smiling at the chaos, pleased with himself and the complexity of his imagination. Yes, he could somehow keep this all functioning at the same time. It tickled him pink. And he winced at that particular word, glaring at his pinkish moccasins. Oh, those had to gothose definitely had to be disposed of and quickly. Hed have to find a storage closet where their spare clothing was kept. Certainly there was something he could fit into. Some of the scientists were on the extra-small size. There had to be acceptable shoes in there somewhere.

But firsthe glanced to the turkey sandwich that waited on the table and felt his tummy rumblehe needed a little snicker-snack. He slid into the chair beside the table, finding that the sandwich was cut on the diagonal, exactly as he liked. It felt odd to sit down, because he wanted to runto jumpto do SOMETHING!

But strangely, his limbs seemed grateful for the chance to rest. His headache was knocking at the back of his braingetting stronger. His tummy felt funny. His joints achedstrange when coupled with his desire to be in movement. He was hot, but cold too, feeling buzzed, hopped up, over-caffeinatedbut tired at the same time.

The tummy ache, Rodney decided, was probably because he was hungry. And he had the solution to that problem right in front of him! Delighted, he grabbed hold of the creation and took a bite. His teeth drove in, but the second hed bitten off a piece, the hunk of Wonderbread, turkey breast and Miraclewhip disappeared.

Surprised, he drew back the sandwichnoted the missing bite at one corner. Tentatively, he tried another sampling, only to be met with the same sensation. He could feel the bread in his mouth up to the moment hed bitten off the piece, then that bit dissolved into nothing.

Frustrated, he glared at the sandwich. Not fair! he whined. Hologram. It was just a hologram! Of course he couldnt eat it! Not fair, he whispered, because he was hungry. Really hungry! Irritated, he banged his feet on the floor and flung down the uneatable treat.

And nobody had thought to bring lunch! Why hadnt Elizabeth come by? They ate lunch together all the time. Carson should have at brought him something. Carson was a doctor and thats the sort of thing they do! He could forgive Sheppard because the colonel had more important things to dolike fighting Wraiths and stuff. Not fair, he muttered one more time.

Behind him, Twiki started off with a "Beeda-Beeda gee, that sucks, Rodney. Beeda-Beeda."

Okay! Enough was enough! Shut up! Mini-McKay shouted. Shut up! Spinning about to face the annoyance, Rodney narrowed his gaze.

The robot had found its way out of the corner. It cocked its head in a motion that was supposed to be endearing but was instead just irritating. It uttered, Beeda-Beeda, maybe little Rodney needs a nappie-poo? Beeda-Beeda.

The grating robot exploded in a shower of metal, circuits, smoke and bits of midget. Somewhere, he heard Mel Blanc crying out in surprise. Rodney grinned. That was fun. The racing feeling inside of him increased. He felt sweaty and his breath came quicker.

The cute holographic teddy bear was next. It smiled at him, its shiny button eyes bursting off as fluff flew! The models followedStar Wars and Battlestar Galactica fighters crashed into each other, or plummeted to the ground, blowing up like fireworks. The Lionel train representations suddenly found themselves on the same tracks. Little high-pitched voices screamed from within the holographic cars. The engines exploded with fire and billowing smoke.

The GI Joes spontaneously combusted. The Tinker Toy canisters went up like cannons. The erector sets showered their metal pieces throughout the room. The Rockem Sockem robots beat each other to bits and pieces.

Its impossible to appropriately describe the horrors wrought upon Stretch Armstrong and Stretch Monster. They were stretched and stretched until they were drawn across the small roomtheir oozy gooey innards seeped (innards that children should never ever try to taste)and then they popped most pleasingly. Gloop flew everywhere!

The TARDIS...he left alone.

But, disappointingly, almost immediately, the destruction disappeared. The holographic images cleaned themselves up, leaving the room tidy. It was exasperating! Oh, he needed something more! He needed something to salve this need for excitementthis need to GO. He felt like climbing the walls, like running from one end of Atlantis to another. He needed excitement.

Rodney wanted to see GI Joe heads rolling, bits of passenger cars scattered, struts from the Erector set twisting, sticks from the Tinker Toys shattered! He wanted to see Twikis roasted circuits tossed about the room!

Nothing. It was all too clean. Furrowing his brow, he turned to the Ancient stuffed animals. Now these were real. Ah yes, the little yak-mantis would leave a mess. Giving the kitty a little squeeze, Rodney smiled as he considered it. He wouldnt be able to think them to pieces these werent mere holograms. But...His gaze fastened on a bucket of art suppliesand the scissors. That just might do the trick.

[{O}]

A/N: Ha ha ha! This is an incredible story! Really! It is! Tell me that you love me! Love me! Please love me! I... I need your adoration. Julie has been so distant lately. It's as if she reviles me as I milk her. Why? Why, Julie? Why don't you love me anymore?

You! Reading this story! Tell me that you love me! Please?


	10. 11:A Very Bad Boy

**Stuck!**

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has left me reviews - you are my light. Also a big hug to all who offered advice on my cow problem. I've tried the buttercups, but the butter kept running out of the cups - the goat bit me in the butt - the goose beaked me - sheep scare me so I didn't even try that one - I cleaned out her stall, gave her hay and grain and what did she do? She just pooped all over the place! - I gave her my nice fluffy blue blanket (that seemed to help a bit) - but, the mittens were a disaster! After I'd worked them onto the teats, they made it hard to get a good squeezin' and made the milk all hairy.

A/N: Tipper, please don't put any more ideas in her head! You don't know what happened the last time she tried to make me dance! Waltzing with your cow is NOT a good idea. I repeat - NOT a good idea. We both learned a little something about ourselves that day. Maybe I'll put on a Sinatra record. That might help.

A/N: WrathSleepTonight - do not take away my only joy! Julie, if you're reading this... don't listen to WST! You know of my love for turkey sandwiches! You are safe, my sweet. Now Lisa the Turkey... just keep mum about that, you know what I mean?

A/N: MA! What did I tell you! Stop leaving reviews! I mean it! Quit checking up on me!

** Chapter Eleven: A Very Bad Boy**

In the infirmary, Carson Beckett rubbed his eyes. His blinding headache had finally reduced to something manageable, but at this pointit was the least of his worries. With a sigh, he lifted his gaze from the monitors and watched as Ronon leaned near Teyla, talking quietly to her.

The former runner had been hereoff and onall day long. Halling had been around for a while, haunting the space, meandered restlessly as if he didnt know what he could do. He had the knack of constantly being in the way when a nurse approached. Then Sheppard had spoken to him, and hed disappeared, undoubtedly to return again with the same discomforted expression.

Ronon, on the other hand, simply sat with Teyla, talking about anything. Hed spend a short time with Teyla at every visit, as if he was determined not to tire heror annoy her. Carson smiled at Ronons tender manners. That man had a mum once, Carson decidedor a gran.

Teyla looked up at Ronon, a beatific smile on her wasted face. Dex kept talking, his voice low and rumbling and she watched him warmlyseeming to offer him as much comfort as he bestowed on her.

Beckett watched, his face drawn. It tore him up to see Teyla like this. Hed always been impressed with her vitality, her incredible strength, her vigor. He knew how hard she struggled now to simply stay awake, to respond to Dex, to attempt a normal conversation. She blinked, her head nodding. Dex leaned closer, one arm supporting her, and Carson felt his heart break a little. She was fading again, falling asleep.

Shed sleep, but never for long. Although she didnt speak of it, Carson knew that her aches and pains would wake heraches and pains that only the elderly are supposed to have earnedthe elderly and those that had fed upon by the Wraith.

Beckett couldnt begin to imagine what that meant to Teylahow devastating this must be to the Athosian. He blew out a breath and returned his gaze to the screen again, wishing he could figure out how to help her. He knew that he had to help that he needed to keep searchingkeep trying to find a solutionfind a way to restore Teyla to her former strengthto bring Rodney back to his former height.

Sighing, Beckett realized that he really should go check on the lad. It was getting late. Well, certainly the plucky tyke had plenty of company, hadnt he? John or Elizabeth must have stopped by to see him. Kate and Radek were probably keeping him busy. Ronon probably made his way past the nursery on his rounds. Certainly hed had plenty of guests.

Beckett rubbed his temples, knowing that someone must have been looking after the boybecause Beckett was too damn busy in the infirmary trying to keep Teyla from fading away. He had no time to saunter past the nursery and put up with the jibes of a pint-sized genius.

Someone was certainly checking on Rodneysomeone who wasnt quite as guilty as others. Blowing out a breath, Carson realized that he really should take a moment to walk down to the room, but he couldnt quite face his friend. It was hard enough to face Teyla in this state.

Ronon stood, a hand lingering on the old womans arm. Teyla slept. Beckett glanced up, catching his eye. I will see if the others have discovered anything, the former runner stated.

Aye, Beckett returned. He watched as Dex turned and left the room heading toward the lab where Zelenka and his team were laboring over the debris left from the Ancient Device. God help them, he muttered, wondering how they were doing.

As he watched Teyla sleep, he wondered how Rodney was doing, wishing he could be in two places at oncebut the infirmary was no place for the active boy, and he couldnt leave Teyla.

[{O}]

The devastation wrought upon the stuffed toys of Atlantis was massive. Rodney McKay used the scissors until it became obvious that his pudgy hands couldnt manipulate the tool to his satisfaction. After that he found other means to dismember.

Arms and legs were pitched about the room, empty cloth bodies dotted the space, heads had been hefted toward the top shelves of the nursery. Most of the craniums missed their targets. The heads that failed to find a spot on the high shelves were cruelly impaled on sticks from the art cabinet. Unstuffed stuffing covered the space like snow. It had been a massacre of plushies.

It was horrible. But they had been too damn cute and had it coming. Things that are so cute shouldnt be allowed to exist. The cool stuff, hed left alone. Useful science stuff deserved to remain. He paused, gazing at the wreckage and felt a tightness in his chest, a shortness of breath, hearing a voice in his head that seemed to say, 'what the hell is the matter with you?'

He breathed deeply, panting from his exertion. 'Something is seriously wrong with you. Why did you do that?' He wouldn't have done this when he was a child. No... he was too...methodical and exacting with his things. Rodney scrunched up his brow, trying to understand it, trying to ignore the buzzing sensation that filled him, but his brain failed to jump to attention. He had to keep moving.

The destruction had done little to calm the scientist. Oh, this was hardly enough. He fidgeted, chubby hands lifting and dropping as he paced endlessly around the room. He wouldnt find what he needed here. He was bored. He was lonely. He needed to get out!

He regarded the doorway to the nurseryspecially designed to keep little guys inside. The half-door allowed adults to look in while the short detainees were kept corralled. Well, this shouldnt stop the man who knew more about Ancient Technology than anyone in the City.

Still, whoever had designed the place, knew the stature of the incarcerated. All controls were gallingly out of reacheven if he jumped really high! Well, that was no big deal. McKay simply thought up a set of stairs. There was a pulse of heat at his chest and the structure appeared, leaning against the exit. Excellent!

Rodney gathered up several of the Ancient devices hed uncovered, including the little puddle jumper, jamming them into the pockets on his vest. Next, he picked up the stick where hed mounted the Wraith head, and carried it like a staff. Finally, jamming the toy cat under his arm, Rodney climbed the stairs, slowing as he reached the top, and stood there a momentthinking.

What to do? Where to go?

It sucked to be alone. He wondered how Teyla felt? Sure, she was in the infirmary, with nurses and everything, but maybe she missed seeing friends? She was old and sick and maybe even a little scared, maybe even lonely. A person felt better when friends came to see them.

Hed go see Teyla, he decided. See how she was doing. Maybe give her one of his prizes. People brought presents to people in the hospital, right? Maybe hed give her Kiki? He frowned as he considered the stuffed cat. Maybe shed like a different toy, and he gazed at the ruined plush animals. Well, at least hed show her the miniature puddle jumper, which was seriously cool!

His stomach rumbled again. He hadnt eaten all day, he remembered. Well, hed go to the mess hall and get something to eat. Good idea. Hed go to the mess hall, then Teyla. Yes. No wait to the storage closet first. Find some newless adorableclothing.

Hed done what he could to fix his current outfit. Hed added the toy Wraiths sash, tying it around his head as a headband. He attempted to make his pink shoes a little more menacing by drawing skulls on them. Hed used markers from the art kit and had achieved some detail to the images as he labored. The result he hoped was to make the pink moccasins much more horrible. It was only after hed finished that he realized he could have painted the entire shoes black but by then the carefully rendered skulls were complete and it would have been a pity to obliterate them.

He needed new shoes. Okay, storage closet, mess hall, infirmary. Time to go!

From the top step, he slowly poked the Wraith head out first, twisting it about as if it was looking. He waited for someone to respond. Not a sound. He followed the marotte with his melon-head, glancing one way and then the other. The hall was emptywhich filled him with both satisfaction and discontent. Hed been here for hours and hours and yet, no one haunted the hall, waiting for him? Guarding him?

What if a Wraith came by while everyone was gone? Rodney McKay would become a bite-sized appetizer! And he glared at the Wraith head on the stick, giving it a bang on the doorframe. No one would have known if hed been attacked. He stuck out his bottom lip at this thought. Well, hed show them!

He concentrated on creating a stairway on the other side of the dutch door, and was annoyed when nothing appeared. He tried even harder, wrinkling his brow and squinting his eyesfocusing on the idea of stairs. Nothing.

STAIRS! he bawled, pointing to where he wanted the set to appear. Nothing but empty hallway. Crap, he muttered, quickly surmising that the holographic device only worked within the nursery. Well, that sucked! But, it wouldnt stop him. One optionrealign the existing stairs so that he could reach the extra-high control panel at one side of the doorway. He could figure out the circuitry. It would be a snap, but as he gazed toward the control panel, his resolve crumbled. It would take time and his hands were as clumpy as clubs. He needed to get out NOW.

He dropped his Wraith stick on the other side, patted his pockets to make sure everything was secure, then carefully dropped Kiki. Next, he eased himself down, feet first, until he was out.

[{O}]

Distracted, Sheppard worked out in the gym on the speed bag. It was getting late. Night had fallenand with the closeness of the night, Sheppard needed to keep himself active. There was something comforting about the sportan activity hed enjoyed way back when he was a simple Earthling whod never heard of stargates or Wraiths or the Pegasus galaxy. Back before friends could be turned into children or old ladies in the blink of an eye.

The rhythm of his gloved hands against the punching bag soothed him, even as he beat the living daylights out of whatever pulled such dirty tricks on his team. Bopita-bopita-bopita-bopitahe slammed the snot out of the Ancients that left their malfunctioning devices where over-excited scientists could poke at them. Damn it! Beckett and McKay had been climbing all over the thing before they knew what it could do. Childrenthey were little better than children.

John frowned at that metaphor and continued to clobber the punching bag.

In the gym, there was nothing outside of the bopita-bopita of the bag and his panting breath. He was otherwise alonecompletely alone. There was a time when he would have preferred the solitude, but hed grown used to sessions with Teyla and missed her companionship. Even when she was kicking his ass, she always had an encouraging word for him.

God, she was incrediblewatching her work out was almost like watching a dance. How could someone that lithe and free be turned into a withered husk? He slammed at the bag, mad as hell.

And it wasnt as if he could just leave the gym to stop by McKays lab to shoot the bull. Funny how much hed come to count on those momentsthose hours spent arguing with the scientist, talking about just about anything, bouncing ideas of each other, sharing stupid jokes and slinging crap. One upping himgetting one upped. He missed it.

Somehow he doubted that McKay could keep up with him mentally anymore and that scared the crap out of him. McKay, the smart ass, had been replaced with a childa freakin child! How goddamn wrong was that?

Sheppard had spent the whole day avoiding them. Hed been by once to check on Teylabut only to keep Halling from haunting her bedside, as he knew the man would be. But besides that, hed kept up with his usual schedule, doing everything he could to NOT think about what was happening to his friendslet the specialists worry about fixing it.

Yet he worriedit had gnawed at him all day.

He missed themhe missed both of them. He felt lonely as hell. And hed been avoiding them all day.

His hands faltered and he lost his rhythm. He let his arms drop to his side as the bag wobbled on its platform, coming to stop.

What was he doing?

With a sigh, he stripped the gloves from his hands, dropping them in the corner, realizing that he probably wasnt the only one who was lonely.

[{O}]

Rodney McKay leaned forward, gazing over the edge of the catwalk, watching the movement of people below him. Rather quickly, he decided against using the hallwayshe wanted to avoid being spotted. His best bet was to use the catwalks. So he climbed to that level at his first opportunity. Hed felt remarkably tired once hed finished, and had sat down, resting his head against a support. His arms and legs were sore, and his ears had started ringing. He felt stretched and compressed at the same time as if his body was just catching up to the fact that it had been horribly misused. His head hurt and felt too hot.

And conversely, along with this weariness, the buzzing need to be in movement remained. It was a terrible mix. His hands trembled, and Rodney gripped the bracings around him in an attempt to still them. He closed his eyes and tried to get a handle on the sensation, trying to get himself to calm down, trying to think.

It left him a bit nauseous. The sash that hed tied around his head felt too tight, and he removed it, leaving it to lie on the walkway.

Why was it so hard to think? He pressed one trembling, plump hand to his face, wishing his head didnt hurt, wishing he could think straight! What would happen to him if he couldnt think? His mind was the only worthwhile thing he possessed.

He blinked at his surroundings, realizing how ridiculous this seemed. What was he doing? He was creeping around on the catwalks with an armload of toys? He shoved the Wraith-head-on-a-stick until he was on the other side of the walkway.

Stupidchildishridiculous, he silently reprimanded himself. Why did I bring that thing along? Why did I bother to put it together. Idiot! Moron!

He realized that hed just torn apart a dozen toys. How utterly juvenile! How contemptuous! Softly, he whispered, Whats happening to me? What was I thinking?

Thats just ithe wasnt thinking. The realization made him feel even sicker.

With a sigh, he knew that he really should go see Carson. Beckett would have a baby aspirin or something for him. Or a shot. He flinched at that thought and he felt his bottom lip quiver at the mere thought of a syringe. Doctors always had needles. He hated needles.

But maybe it would make him feel better? Rodney rubbed one arm empathetically as he gripped the catwalks support with the other. Time to gotime to get moving. He needed to pull himself up with his handssince his legs seemed determined to stay put. He watched his uncoordinated hand clench the metal, and he felt a terrible sorrow.

Uselessthe chubby lumpkins on the ends of his arms were nearly useless. Hed lost all his normal dexterity. His hands were one of the things he was proud ofhis mind first, followed by his hands. His fingers had been so nimble, so flexible, quick and articulateand hed even lost them replaced with doughy pudgy lumps.

His mind was he losing that, too?

He really wasnt feeling well. Why hadnt Carson come by to check up on him in the nursery? Seriously, Carson should have been by! He frowned at that thought. I am a patient after all! Shouldnt the doctor be checking up on his lab rat?

Well, if Carson wouldnt be bothered with seeing himRodney would have to seek out the doctor himself. Right! Ill take care of it myself. Hed always been the one responsible for looking after himself. Well, he was planning to go to the infirmary anyway to see Teyla.

He concentrated, trying to work out the plan. Okay, okay, hed go to see Carson, but only after hed made his way to the storage closet for new clothing, then the mess hall for lunch, and after hed stopped by to see Teyla to show her the puddle jumper and let her pet Kiki. Carson would be his next stopif the doctor had any time for him.

There, it was resolved! McKay knew exactly what he was going to do. It was always good to have a plan.

But instead of getting up and continuing on his way, he pressed his head against the cool metal of Atlantis and watched people move beneath him in a blur.

Hard to believe, isnt it? someone said just below himDr. Hoffmana botanist.

Another laughed, Dr. Thibodauxa microbiologist. I cant believe it myself. I hear they have him stashed way somewhere. Wish he was stomping around his lab like usual. Imagine what thatd be like. Ha! Id love to get a look the little guy. Id laugh my ass off.

Dr. Li, another botanist, shook her head. He is cute, she responded. And when they brought him back from the planet, he looked so sweet asleep. She turned her head, and even though his view was from above, Rodney was certain she smiled benignly. I miss having children around. Im afraid Id have to hug him if I saw him again. And she made a gooey noise at that idea.

Hoffman sounded disgusted. You KNOW who youre talking about, dont youthe Demon Lord of the Labs.

What? Rodney thought, scowling at the folks below him. You are SO busted!

Thibodaux laughed. Dont let him hear you say that. Hell make your life miserable.

You got that right, Rodney agreed.

He hasnt made your life hell already? Hoffman returned.

Oh, Rodney thought, have I EVER said anything to Hoffman that he didnt deserve? The man is a puffed up moron that needs someone to ride his ass before he gets anything done.

Thibodaux laughed again, a deep guffaw. I try to stay out of his way. When hes in a foul mood watch out! Nothing will shut him up.

Thibodaux was little better, McKay knew. The man was lazy and always tried to get out of work. Plus he was a microbiologistreason enough to be annoyed with him.

Hes cute now, Li added.

Rodneys frown increased. He hated cute, and he clutched his kitty closer so that Kiki could share in his hatred.

Why should I care what he thinks? Hoffman continued. What can he do now? Theyve got him locked up in Romper Room. Looks like they finally figured out that children should be seen and not heard. Hoffman sucked his teeth a moment and added, His body finally matches his attitude. I always figured he was a big baby.

Li laughed prettily, and quietly.

Thibodaux chuckled. Be careful. Ive seen him kneecap a guy using his words alone.

What do I have to worry about? Hoffman returned bluntly. Hes four years old! The worst he could do is kick me in the shin.

Rodney leaned forward, scowling at those beneath him, wanting to bellow insults and reprimands at them, but he knew it would be useless. Li would giggle. Hoffman would smirk. Thibodaux? Well, who knew about Cajun microbiologists? Before he could even come up with something to say the puddle jumper slipped from his pocket.

Rodney felt it come loose. Madly, he reached out, trying to grab it before it careened into the midst of the little group, but his hands fumbled and the toy fell.

[{O}]

A/N: Now, I must go to soothe my dear Julie. Maybe I'll put on the Neil Diamond record. Do you know what would really make Julie happy? MORE REVIEWS! I can read them to her and she will love me again. HELP ME REGAIN THE LOVE OF MY COWWWWW!.


	11. 12:Running Down the Clock

**Stuck!**

A/N: My heart is empty. I woke up this morning to find the barn door open and the love of my life - gone. Oh, agony! Dear Julie. I am ebaying like mad right now. I have bids in for Stretch Armstrong (MIB) and a Rock'em Sock 'em Robot thingie. It says that the R&S Robots are used and that the blue robot has a weird twitch and a bent head, but we might be able to live with that. How 'bout it, Julie my dear? I mean, you'll have to use the broken blue robot because your hoofs will just smash them anyway (I don't see how you can push the little buttons with your delicate but cloven feet), but how 'bout it? I haven't been able to find a toy puddlejumper, but I found a Barbie Winnebago. Will that do, my sweet? I will continue my search as I continue my search for your love. Heart heart heart (if I were able to post symbols here, you'd see three hearts in a row). Julie be Mine!

A/N: SallyB - you're repeating yourself, but I agree. And flah7 - I always hated Twiki. I finally got my revenge on the little twerp! badgenes: you cannot sway me! My love is for Julie... but you will continue to love me anyway. Ha ha ha ha!

A/N: Ah, okay, on with the story.

**Chapter Twelve: Hickory Dickory Dock, Running Down the Clock **

Rodney's blunted little fingers stretched out ineffectually, curling around mid air as the toy puddle jumper skimmed past his finger tips and nose-dived toward the floor as if Beckett himself was piloting it.

McKay leaned against the catwalk railing, holding fast to Kiki's tail, trying to wrap his mind around the gene-controlled device, but ultimately watching as the little silver ship crashed cockpit first into an unspectacular fragmentation of pieces.

Firecrackers would have added a nice touch to that, he thought inanely, more explosive.

He froze as the adults below paused, stared at the broken toy and then each other.

McKay watched them, scowling at their slow reactions, their delayed mental processing. Why the hell didn't they just look up to the point of origin? They would learn nothing by staring at one another and then back down to the shattered remnants of the once super cool, self-piloting puddle jumper.

McKay once again realized that he had worked, does work, with mental midgets. They were idiots, all of them!

Rodney furrowed his brow in frustrated anger as one by one the scientist raised their eyes from the toy upward to look up at him.

When Dr. Li's kind brown eyes met his and she tapped her earpiece, he knew he was in trouble.

He flipped them off. With a snarl and heated sneer and with self-preservation first on his mind, he jumped to his feet and bolted down the catwalk away from the ogling morons that called themselves scientists.

[{O}]

Rodney ran through the quiet hallways of the upper levels. He stole fleeting glances over his shoulder as he barreled down the corridors, dragging Kiki by his tail, ignorant of the fact that his skull-adorned pink moccasins repeatedly belted the small toy, flinging it back up into the air. Kiki was taking the brunt of the mad dash.

McKay ran and ran. He ran until his breath seized in his chest; he ran until his lungs burned and his balance faulted; he ran blindly unsure of who he was running from and where he was running to. And why?

He slowed his frantic pace, peering one last time over his shoulder down the curved, dark hallway and realized he was very much alone.

The corridor stretched in both directions for as far as the eye could see, until the grey light leached into solid blackness.

He stopped. His head swam and his hands and legs shook, a cold clammy sweat suddenly covered his body. The darkness seemed to move. His blue eyes searched the empty area. Unbidden, images of the Wraith popped into his mind, emerging from the shadows. He caught his breath and listened. He strained to hear over his own racing heartbeat. Were there Wraith nearby?

He hugged Kiki to his chest and slowly backed into the wall. He wanted the Colonel. He wanted Sheppard. Sheppard could take care of the Wraiths!

His head hurt. He was hungry. His tummy was angry. It was cold. He wanted the Colonel. But Sheppard never stopped by the nursery. Sheppard made him wear pink shoes.

Rodney squeezed Kiki to his chest and shimmied down the corridor, one slight step at a time, afraid to move, but terrified to be caught out in the open should a Wraith be nearby.

The Colonel would protect him from the Wraith. Sheppard wasn't afraid of anything, and Sheppard was friends with Ronon Dex. Ronon wouldn't let anything happen to him. Rodney wasn't sure why, but he knew it to be true.

McKay's stomach growled loudly, betraying his position to any Wraith that might be nearby. He rubbed his tummy hoping to keep it quiet. His head hurt. He felt dizzy. He wanted Sheppard.

Tears spilled over long curled lashes and trickled down rosy, heated cheeks. He rubbed at his forehead irritably and closed his eyes. He lost his balance and fell into the wall.

Silent tears rolled one after another cascading from his pooling eyes and falling to his heaving chest and tiny potbelly.

His stomach growled painfully again. No one came by to see him in the nursery. They looked him in jail and left him behind, forgot about him.

McKay continued to slide along the hallway wall until he came to a door. He listened at it for a bit. He heard nothing. He stood outside trying to decide what to do.

The hurried voices of Hoffman, Thibodaux and Li suddenly sounded somewhere behind him, getting closer.

They were looking for him. Idiots. They had been saying mean things about him, making fun of him and now they called to him like a lost dog. What type of moron did they take him to be? He might be shrunken but he was still his super genius, brilliant self.

He wondered if stupidity was a pathologic condition, if it came with its own set of genes. He'd have to ask Carson about it some time. He was supposed to find Beckett but that wasn't first on the list.

Rodney didn't want to be found by the trio of pathologically stupid. They had said mean things about him. They were cruel, almost like the Wraith, but different. The Wraith, at least, left a physical mark on you so others knew you were hurt.

With Kiki tight to his chest, McKay jumped up, stretching his left arm upward and slapped his hand against the control panel. The door opened. It slid back revealing a small storage closet.

Part one of his plan of things to do after escaping the nursery! Find a storage closet! His plan was finally coming together.

With a relieved sigh of success, Rodney disappeared into the closet and grinned as the door slid shut, hiding him from the foolish scientists that strode by without so much as clue as to where he hid.

He was a giant amongst idiots. He'd been right before. Size didn't matter. Sheppard was wrong, it wasn't a myth.

With the thought of John Sheppard, Rodney silently slid down the wall in a corner with his knees drawn up close and Kiki held tight to his chest. He wanted the Colonel. Tears once again slid unknowingly down his cheeks. He squeezed Kiki with all his four-year-old might and buried his face in it faux fur.

His shoulders heaved as fever ate his stamina and hunger gnawed as his stomach lining. His body shook and breath choked out a staccato rhythm as the wait of isolation and unnamed fear swirled around him like a suffocating wrap.

Eventually his breath evened out as he slid sideways, slumping into the corner, his death grip of Kiki lessening as sleep slipped in a stole his resolve away.

[{O}]

Sheppard, Beckett and Dex stood in the open doorway of the storage closet on level 4 of the West wing of Atlantis, staring at the small huddled shape that slept wrapped around a stuffed cat, shivering.

"Elizabeth, we found him," Sheppard said into his radio as he dropped the life sign detector to his pocket and Beckett shouldered his way into the small room. The colonel backed out of the way as he answered Elizabeth's question about Rodney's appearance, following the Scot's movements within the small confines of the closet with his eyes.

Draped by the lab coat, Beckett's broad shoulders gave the impression of Igor from behind. The colonel cracked a smile. He'd have to use it sometime, with McKay as back up. Elizabeth asked another question, and Sheppard turned his attention back to the tiny voice in his ear.

He kept his eyes on Beckett as he watched the physician squat down near the sleeping Mini-McKay. Sheppard furrowed his brow in concern when he noticed the Doctor's body language.

"Ahh, damn," Beckett muttered resting a seemingly too large hand against McKay's pale clammy forehead and cheek. "Rodney?"

Rodney's eyes fluttered up. "Colonel?"

"No, laddie, it's Carson," Beckett answered smiling kindly down at the 'child'.

"Nooo, I want the Colonel," McKay whimpered, pulling himself into a tighter ball and squeezing back into the corner. "I want the Colonel. I don't feel goodmy head hurts," McKay whined. He opened his eyes a little more and stared directly at the doctor. "You left me all alone! I hate you!Get away!"

Carson reached out to offer comfort, to ease his own flash of pain at the truthful accusations spat at him by the tiny terror.

McKay no longer acted like a miniature pit bull on speed but somehow transformed into a frightened, lonely four-year-old hiding from a too big and unfriendly world.

"No! Go away!" Rodney lashed out with a moccasined foot, but Beckett was well versed in pediatrics and unwilling patients and easily deflected the blow. The kick may have lacked the crippling physical power of an adult, but carried the brutal honesty of fear and distrust that no adult could pack into a kick. Rodney wasn't kicking out to hurt, but to defend himself. Carson recognized it and wasn't sure what would have hurt more, the actual foot connecting with his knee or knowing that Rodney was afraid of him and didn't trust him.

Beckett peered over his shoulder at Sheppard and Ronon hoping to see that he had misread McKay's actions. The confused and stunned expressions only confirmed his own.

Beckett turned back to McKay. "Come on, laddie, Colonel Sheppard is right here." Carson once again reached out to place a comforting hand on the scientist's knee only to have McKay recoil.

"No, go away," he mumbled. "I want the Colonel." His quiet pleas barely reached adult ears. Beckett watched as the frightened blue eyes flickered closed and fat tears rolled from Rodney's damp eyelashes and down tear-stained cheeks. His muscles relaxed and he seemingly melted further into his kitty cat, the corner effectively distancing himself from the adults.

"Here, I got 'im." Sheppard stepped aside from the doorway giving Carson an unarticulated order to exit the closet. Beckett pushed himself to his feet, groaning softly as his knees popped and muscles protested.

"It's hell getting old," Sheppard mocked.

"Or young," Beckett returned, staring sadly at the curled figure wedged in the corner of the closet. They had segregated Rodney, peeled him off from the rest of the population because he had become more different than they were used to and discarded him for a moment in time because he was being inconvenient.

It was lousy how history had a way of disguising itself to ensure its replication.

"He feels warm," Sheppard remarked as he gently hoisted McKay up into his arms making sure Rodney's forehead was nestled securely against his neck. The colonel held the stuff cat in his free hand and strode out of the closet. McKay latched his arms around Sheppard's neck, hanging on tight. The colonel tried not to think about the fact that just a day ago he'd had to cajole Rodney into doing that.

"Aye, he's running a bit of a fever," Beckett muttered, trying to get a better glimpse of the pale features with rosy cheeks, but only managing to see the top of unkempt light brown hair. "Let's get him to the infirmary."

[{O}]

Carson stood in front of the computer monitor at such an angle that he could keep an eye on his pint-sized patient and Teyla. The Athosian sat up in bed with a nasal canula taped to her gaunt cheeks. She sat beside a sleeping Rodney, who shared her bed, tucked into her. Teyla rubbed his small, blanketed chest with wrinkled, gnarled hands that seemed to get more twisted and contorted every few hours. She had to be in considerable pain and yet the Athosian had a smile for anyone who stopped by. Her visitors had dwindled as her joints became more knotted and gnarled, and her once statuesque features had become more sunken and melted.

Teyla didn't have a few days.

Looking back at the computer monitor, Rodney had even less time.

"Carson?" Dr. Weir's delicately spoken prompt brought the doctor back to his small audience. He stared at Dr. Weir, letting his eyes travel to Ronon who kept stealing glances over to Teyla. Last, he looked to John, who sat slouched in his chair as if he had everything under control even as the world disintegrated out from under his feet.

Beckett had noticed that Rodney had clutched to Sheppard as tightly as Sheppard had clutched to Rodney as they had traveled through Atlantis, taking a roundabout route to avoid the heavily traveled areas.

Carson recognized it and realized that Ronon did, too. The specialist would make sure that no one threatened the strengthening bond between the miniaturized scientist and the Colonel. Weir also saw it and it unnerved her. Perhaps she realized that if they lost McKay, there was a very strong chance that they would lose the Colonel John Sheppard they had all come to know and respect as well.

Beckett's eyes finally settled on Zelenka. The Czech returned the gaze and unconsciously pushed his glasses back up on his nose.

"Carson?" Dr. Weir prompted again.

"Ahh, right." Beckett pulled himself from his wanderings and stared back at the monitor. The monitor was 'safe'. It was his territory. He knew the information that scrawled by, understood the diagrams, the images. The monitor, the computer, the information it was all his within his territory, his realm of expertise. It was a territory where if he didn't immediately understand something he merely had to study it for a bit and it would make itself clear. He loved his world sometimes.

The moment he looked away from the monitors, printouts and results his somewhat detached world came crashing down around him. When his eyes landed on the ancient woman warrior who only a day or so ago could have mopped the floor with him or snapped his bones like dried pretzels with minimal effort, and was suddenly now someone who couldn't hold a simple spoon steady to feed herself, his world became unnerving and terrifying. When he cast his gaze to the unconscious four-year-old body, he felt his heart plummet to his feet knowing that the brilliant friend that lay trapped within the tiny frame with a cantaloupe-sized head was slowly and surely disappearing from them.

When Carson looked away from the monitor and its readings and stared out at the small gathering of friends, he left his comfort zone and suddenly found himself floundering.

Blame was not going to be dished around, it wasn't going to be whispered by these people, but blame had found a voice in his head and he felt the weight of responsibility that he had no right to shoulder.

He looked back at his monitor, looked at the comparison images and then turned back to the small gathering of impromptu family forged by circumstance and luck.

"We have a problem," Carson's accent dropped away as he spoke, delivering dire news with all the professionalism and detachment he had been taught in school and refined in years of practice.

He spoke clearly, concisely and with the calculating neutral inflections of someone who was lecturing a subject that held neither joy, excitement nor boredom. He conveyed information as clearly as he could, hoping not to have to repeat himself but knowing that he would. Patients only heard a tenth of what you said and fifty percent of that was heard backward. There would be questions, he would have to repeat himself, and he would have to flash up the same diagrams.

He would have to show the comparisons of Rodney's brain scansthe three dimensional images of his one time adult-self and the now child-self. He would be forced to point out the obvious areas of regression, the 'de-development' of a brilliant, arrogant, and fiercely loyal friend.

Carson spoke slowly, clearly and with the Queen's English that he did not embrace with the same love and familiarity of his own native brogue. He chose his words carefully, made sure his eyes did not wander to the fragile shriveled frame of one the most physically powerful and beautiful women he had ever met. He made it a point not to let his carefully maintained neutral eyes glance at the small bundle huddled under the white hospital blanket holding tightly to a kitty cat stuffed animal as if the toy itself was the only source of comfort in the sanitized frightening world of Atlantis and its marauding adults.

Beckett spoke on and on, meeting the eyes over those in front of him and holding their gazes. He made it a point to speak to each and every one of them for a sentence or two so that they too remained attentive, so that they understood that he did not want to repeat himself, go back through his explanations and science. He did not want to revisit the data right now. He would have to, of course, but not right now, not in front of these people.

He would go back and review his data in privacy where he could lash out and react like the human being he could not afford to let himself be now.

When he was finished, he simply stopped talking. He followed the Colonel's gaze to Teyla who now lay down beside little Rodney and rubbed the child's back as the boy buried himself into the Athosian's front with kitty cat wedged between himself and her.

And for a moment, Carson wanted to laugh, wondering if this was a ploy of 'Ivan the Terrible' Mini-McKay to get a little closer to a woman's chest.

The moment passed quickly. What was left of the Rodney they all knew was quickly disappearing.

Teyla would be no more than wasted muscle on brittle bone within a day or two and Rodney's racing metabolism and CNS regression would see him beating Teyla to the grave.

Carson stared back out into the audience and sighed quietly as he acknowledged individual questions. With a steadying breath, he changed the image on the monitor to a previous screen and once again rehashed information he so desperately wished to avoid repeating until alone in the privacy of his own office.

They were running out of time and rehashing the inevitable seemed moot.

[{O}]

A/N: Julie, the barn will be warm tonight, oats in the bin, the stall freshly swept. How about a nice milking? I promise to warm my hands in my armpits first. Please? Pretty please? Don't make me beg! Where are you? Please come back, my bovine beauty!

A/N: Okay, readers, if you'd leave me a review or two, I'm sure that'll help my plight! Julie needs to know I am LOVED! If you show her how LOVED I am, she will certain fall hoof over tail for me once again. HELP ME!


	12. 13:A New Kind of Battleship

**Stuck!**

**Chapter Thirteen: A New Kind of Battleship **

Sometime later, after night had fallen once more, the tiny figure on the bed started to stir. He felt warm and comfortable, wrapped protectively in someone's arm. The arm was slight and gentle, a woman's. For a moment, he thought he was actually home, lying on his bed, his mother holding him...

But then he remembered that his mother had never held him.

And he remembered who he was. Frowning, throwing off vestiges of what felt like a very heavy sleep, he blinked open his eyes and looked around. He was lying against someone, wrapped in their arms. A moment later, he recognized the arm as the withered, wrinkled arm of Teyla.

A faint memory of being in the infirmary with her, sitting and leaning on her as Carson tried to explain something important to him, but not quite understanding it, came to him. Something about brain scans. The only thing that really came through is that they had less time to help Teyla now. And him. He was in trouble too, but he wasn't sure why. Wasn't he supposed to be fine?

All that really mattered is that, when dinner had come, Teyla had given him her chocolate pudding cup. Teyla was great. He didn't want her to die. He wanted to help her. But he just couldn't think how. He just couldn't think...

Think about what?

Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes with his fists and yawned. Teyla's arm slipped down a bit, and he twisted, turning to look at her. She was breathing heavily, wheezing roughly, her mouth wide open like a goldfish. Suddenly, a flash of memory creased through his head, of being forced to stand by his grandmother's side as she died slowly of cancer. He remembered his mother shoving him forward, telling him to say goodbye to the withered, white haired woman. All he really remembered was that everything was white. His grandmother's skin, her hair, the pillow, the blanket, the walls...white. Why did people equate death with the color black? To him, it was the opposite color that was more appropriate.

He didn't want to think about this anymore.

Gently, he lifted Teyla's aged arm off of him and rested it across her side. She didn't wake.

The infirmary was dark, and when he looked over at the clock up on the wall, he saw that it was nearly three in the morning.

Okay.

A snort from another bed, and McKay found his eyes drawn to a sleeping figure on one of the infirmary beds opposite, big booted feet hanging over the edge. As they usually did. Sheppard was sleeping on his stomach, almost spread eagled on the narrow bed, blanket twisted all around the thin frame.

A grin flashed, and McKay was pushing himself off the bed, falling in an ungainly heap when the distance once again was a bit much. Looking around, he quickly spotted the pile of hideous clothes and even more hideous pink shoes, and scrabbled to get them on. A moment later, he was across the infirmary and reaching up to tug insistently at the hand hanging over the edge of the bed.

"Colonel," he hissed. "Colonel, wake up!"

"Hmmph," Sheppard replied, shifting a little, trying to pull the hand back.

"Colonel!" McKay said a little louder, grabbing the colonel's fingers more tightly, using both hands, "Colonel!"

A hazel eye cracked open, rolled around a bit, then focused on the tuft of hair and huge blue eyes peeking up over the edge of the bed. McKay let go the hand and grinned triumphantly. Snorting, Sheppard pushed himself up, the other eye joining the first, the pair now peering wearily and with some annoyance at McKay.

"What?" he muttered, sniffed again, and added, "What do you want?"

"I wanna show you something! Come with me!"

"McKay," Sheppard groaned, twisting his left arm around to blink down at the watch on his wrist, "It's...three in the morning."

"I know. But I'm awake." McKay grinned at that statement, as if that was all that mattered. "Come with me. I wanna show you what I found!"

"Can't it wait?" This was delivered in a plaintive whine.

"No," McKay whined back. "Come on. Please? I wanna show you...please?"

Sheppard almost said no. He was tiredexhausted the better wordand it was way too early to deal with the crazy, conflicting emotions McKay's current condition caused inside him. But then he remembered Carson's diagnosis from earlier, and grimaced.

"Yeah," he finally muttered, sitting up the rest of the way and twisting to dangle his feet off the side. "Okay. What do you want to show me?"

"Not here," McKay said, reaching to grab a handful of pants fabric, pulling it towards him as if he could physically force Sheppard off the bed. "In the nursery. Come on! Hurry up!"

Sheppard sniffed, rubbed a hand down his face, covered a yawn, and got up. Wobbling a little, he felt McKay grab his handor at least, several fingers on his handand start pulling. Giving in, he yawned again and let himself be led.

Over on the far bed, Teyla watched them go. She'd been awakened by McKay's voice, and she smiled a little at the picture the two presented as Sheppard followed McKay's already bouncing form out of the infirmary. She considered alerting Beckett, but he was sleeping on the bed in his office, and she didn't want to wake him. She was sure Sheppard would take care of the little one.

[{O}]

McKay never let go the hand of the "adult" with him, dragging his best friend behind him with the insistence of a hyperactive and very determined dog on a leash. It was all the still groggy colonel could do to keep up. Fairly soon, they were at the nursery door, and McKay was reaching up to try to hit the door panel. Sheppard beat him to it, opening the door with a tap and watching as the half door slid open.

The lights came on immediately inside the dark room and, letting Sheppard's hand go, McKay kicked aside a set of plastic stairs and ran inside, heading unerringly for one side of the room. The colonel, meanwhile, had stopped dead, staring around at the room in wonder.

It looked like a tornado had hit it. McKay had obviously wreaked complete and wanton destruction on everything in here, apparently acting out against his confinement. Feathers and stuffing covered every surface in the room, remnants of what must have been explosive charges (how had no one picked those up in the control room?) left black marks on different parts of the walls and floor, mangled and destroyed toys lay in twisted messes, and heads of different, strange "creatures" that had once been part of stuffed toys were mounted on sticks (which explained the "Wraith head on a stick" they'd found on that catwalk) or thrown atop higher shelves. It was incredible.

"Holy cow," Sheppard muttered, his eyes wide. "How...did you do this?"

"Hmm?" McKay turned around, then turned further to look at the room. "Oh, they had it coming. Besides, they were just unwanted toysnot like anyone would care what happened to 'em. As to how, I just used the stuff from one of the art kits and fashioned some explosives from the teacher's tools that I found in the main desk." McKay frowned a moment, as if trying to remember exactly how he had made the explosives, then blinked some more when it didn't come to him immediately. Then he shrugged and turned back to unearthing a pile from under bits of plushy stuffing.

Sheppard grimaced, placing his hands on his hips, and took more careful stock of the room. He hadn't really studied it before, but now he understood a little why it must have felt so demeaning for McKay when he was first put in here. It was too...happy.

His brow crinkled a little as he studied the different toys and objects scattered around. There was something more strange than just the total chaos of the destroyed stuffed animals...but he couldn't quite put his finger on what...

"Here, come here!" Rodney demanded, calling Sheppard over and flapping a little hand impatiently, "I wanted to show you these! They're so cool! Come here!" He was getting annoyed at the colonel's seeming unwillingness to leave the doorway.

"Shep-PARD!" he whined, volume going up a decibel, "Come ON!"

That woke the colonel from his daze, and he walked over. Kneeling down next to McKay, he looked at the pile of untouched toys. McKay grinned from ear to ear, and, in the rapid fire speech that was both very McKay and very hyper four year old, he started going through everything in the pile, which included some "gene" controlled toys that reminded the colonel of remote control cars, though they were ships. He had to admit his own genuine excitement at seeing those, because they were models of Ancient vessels like the Aurora, allowing him to see what that ship had looked like before it had been destroyed. McKay had several of them flying around his head at once, which amazed Sheppard, as, when he tried, he actually found he couldn't work them as easily as the boy did. There was also figurines ("not dolls!" McKay had stated vehemently when Sheppard had called them that) of Ancients and one or two creatures that were definitely not human, along with musical toys, learning toys, and finally, things McKay had determined were teacher's tools. One looked a little like the Ancient version of the toy Simon, but when McKay pushed the brightly colored buttons, a mini hologram of the universe popped up. It appeared to be a mobile, mini-version of the big one that the main hologram suite created.

And Sheppard couldn't stop himself from smiling and admitting, "Neat!"

"See? See? Isn't it cool! I wanted to show them to you yesterday, but...um," McKay blinked a bit, frowning a little, then shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Aren't they just so awesome?"

"Yes, McKay, they're cool." Sheppard grinned back, looking up at the ships hovering over his head. He was a little disappointed that there wasn't a mini puddle jumper among them. He wondered why.

"Wanna play?" McKay asked, his eyes bright, bringing Sheppard's attention back. There was a hint of desperation in the tone, as if the boy knew he didn't have much time. "We could...we could recreate a battle, or something. Like playing Battleship! And this time, the Ancient's win! Whaddya say? I'll even let you be the Ancients. I'll be the Wraith. I don't mind losing, but I won't make it easy." His cheeks were bright red as he grinned again.

Sheppard grinned at the boy, and chuckled. "But we don't have any Wraith ships."

"Yeah we do," McKay said, pointing upwards with a single pudgy finger. "Look up!"

Sheppard did as he was told, and looked up. For a moment, he frowned. McKay was right. There were Wraith ships floating up there with the Ancient ones. Where had those come from? Must have missed them when McKay was first going through the pile. Shaking it off, he laughed.

"Okay," he said. "Why not. But I'll be the Wraith. You be the Ancients."

McKay's grin grew. "Okay! I've made it so the Wraith ships'll respond to your commands instead. So, wanna go first?"

And so Sheppard made the first move. It was ridiculously fun. They played three times, every time with Sheppard playing the "bad guys" and McKay outmaneuvering him and knocking his ships out of the air. (To be fair, Sheppard didn't have to fake being outmaneuveredMcKay had a real knack). The "destroyed" Ancient and Wraith ships would fall to the floor with a clunk. Before they started, McKay had said he wanted to blow them up when they were hit, but Sheppard had immediately told him no. The mini-scientist appeared disappointed, but acquiesced after Sheppard mentioned they didn't have an unlimited number of the remote control ships and they wouldn't be able to play more than once if they blew them up. McKay sighed but nodded.

After about an hour though, Sheppard saw McKay flagging. The boy was yawning again and rubbing at his head. Fact was, McKay was burning too brightly and too fast, and Sheppard knew it meant the boy needed to rest more.

Taking his ships out of the air and landing them on the ground, he looked squarely at the boy, who was giving him a puzzled look. The Ancient ships still in the air all pointed at Sheppard as well, as if they too were puzzled. The colonel sighed and didn't have to fake a yawn.

"I'm kinda tired, McKay. How about a short nap, huh?"

Rodney looked crestfallen, puppy dog eyes on full. "But, but..."

"We can play again when you wake up, okay? Just a short nap. Aren't you tired?"

McKay frowned, rubbing a little at his head, as if he had a headache. "No."

"You yawned a little bit ago. And I bet your head's hurting again, isn't it?"

"M'not tired! And it's not. I'm fine. I wanna play!"

"McKay..."

"I don't wanna sleep! Come on!" He brightened again. "Wanna play with something else? I can make anything, you know. Whatever you want!"

Sheppard grinned. Yeah, the old McKay probably could have made anything. The grin faded, though, when he saw that the blue eyes watching him intently were no longer those of the old McKay. He hadn't really realized it before, but the sharp intelligence that used to shine out of them had faded. The child staring at him, rubbing at his eyes and trying to pretend he wasn't tired, was not as focused, not as quick, not as McKay as he used to be.

"Not right now, Rodney. I think we both need a short nap. It's almost five now. How about we sleep until six, and then we can do something else?"

McKay frowned, slumping a little, and he kicked at a nearby toy.

"McKay," Sheppard warned. "Don't be like that."

Rodney stared back at him, still sulking, then sighed. "Can we sleep here?" he asked quietly.

"Sure," the colonel said, smiling.

"And you won't leave?"

"No. I promise."

McKay seemed to accept that, and looked around with a resigned air. He stopped when he saw some pillows in the corner. He headed over to them and sat down. A moment later, he was on his side, curling into the pillows, trying to get comfortable, drawing up his legs to his chest. Sheppard followed him over and sat down so that his back was against the wall next to the boy. McKay glanced at him, harrumphed, and moved closer, nestling his head against Sheppard's side, getting comfortable. It seemed natural for the colonel to rest a hand on the boy's back, rubbing away the shivering.

Looking up, the colonel dimmed the lights with a mental request, and then watched McKay. Slowly, but surely, the blue eyes closed, albeit reluctantly...and then he was asleep.

Sheppard smiled again, and closed his own eyes.

[{O}]

A tiny whimpering woke him up, and Sheppard blinked, eyes taking in the dark room. Suddenly, McKay shrieked with all the power a child's lungs could carry and Sheppard saw his tiny form explode away from him to run and cower on other side of the room.

Sheppard was on his feet in a second, because he saw what had terrified the boy. He scrabbled for the 9MM at his hip, which he knew would not be much help.

A Wraith stood not five feet away, grinning evilly at him.

"McKay!" Sheppard yelled, "Run!"

But Rodney didn't move. He had climbed up on a bench on the corner and had wedged himself in, looking frozen to the spot. His eyes were huge and terrified. Sheppard glared at him.

"I said, run!"

"Look out!" McKay yelled back, giving Sheppard just enough warning to jump out of the way and shift to another side of the room as the Wraith leapt at him. The creature turned and hissed in anger, arms lifting from its side like a praying mantis.

Moving a few more steps back, Sheppard quickly clicked his radio. "This is Sheppard! There are Wraith in Atlantis! Sound the alarm!"

"Colonel?" a sleepy voice replied, "This is the control room. There's nothing on the sensors. Are you sure?"

"YES!" Sheppard dived out of the way as the Wraith leapt at him again, the hideous creature missing him by mere feet. "I'm sure! There's one with me and Rodney in the nursery! I need help! Hurry!" As he recovered, he shot a few bullets at the creature. It flinched as they impacted, but it did little more than piss it off. Around them, the alarms burst to life through the halls. "Rodney," Sheppard shouted, "You have to get out of here! Get to the door!"

"Not without you!" McKay yelled back. That actually sounded like the old McKay there for a second.

Sheppard yelped as the Wraith attacked again, and this time it managed to hit him, sending him flying backwards several feet into a wall. Sheppard pushed himself back to his feet, rubbing his shoulder, and glared at the Wraith. He could no longer see McKaythe Wraith was blocking his view now. At least it wasn't focused on the boy.

"McKay, that's an order!"

"No, no, no!"

"You are all so pathetic," the Wraith hissed, stepping closer. Sheppard shot it a few more times. The bullets managed to slow the creature, but, as before, didn't stop it. It just kept coming.

"All right, fine!" Sheppard said, lifting the gun up to point it directly at the creature's head with both hands. "Now you listen to me, you sorry sack of shit, I don't know where you came from or how you got here, but you're not leaving this room, understand?"

"This room," McKay muttered from wherever he was behind the creature. "Oh my God...the nightmare," his boyish voice rose in pitch, getting louder. "This is a nightmare! I did this!"

Sheppard grimaced, "McKay, stop babbling nonsense and get the hell out of here!" And he finished the statement by shooting more bullets at the Wraith, one after another...

Just as the Wraith suddenly dissolved. As if it had never been. The very real bullets that Sheppard had just shot, however, kept on going.

Horrified, Sheppard's eyes widened as the little boy on the other side of the room flinched and rocked back against the wall. A tiny hand was pressed against his left shoulder...which was already turning red from blood. The shocked blue eyes lifted up to meet Sheppard's, the boy's lips trembling.

"It was...a hologram..." the boy whispered out, just before falling off the bench and collapsing to the ground in a heap.

"MCKAY!" Sheppard screamed, running across to the boy. Reaching his side, he pressed a hand desperately against the bleeding wound, yelling into his radio now for a medical team. McKay's now half-lidded eyes blinked up at him, tearing from the pain.

"I'm sorry," the boy whispered, "I'm so sorry..."

"Shhh," Sheppard hissed. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. You're going to be fine."

But the boy's eyes were closed.

Sheppard breathing was rapid now, and he twisted to look behind him at the door, furious at the fact that help still hadn't come yet. He opened his mouth to shout some more, when he saw something against the wall that made the words die in his throat. He realized that had been what had bothered him before when he had first surveyed the room...but he hadn't made the connection until now.

Perfectly rendered and standing proudly against the wall halfway to the door was Doctor Who's Tardis.

[{O}]

A/N: My heart - it is empty. Julie has not come back. The yaks saw her ass disappearing over the next rise. I'll miss the donkey, too. I don't know what to do... what to think... I.. ah... You know, I honestly don't care what happens to that little twerp McKay. His story is like ashes in my mouth! JULIEEEEEE! Come back to me, oh, Cow of my heart!

A/N: Maybe if you post nice reviews for me, I'll feel like posting more of the story tomorrow. You can try to cheer me up. Otherwise, I'll be in the barn, curled up in a corner, clutching Julie's sweet blankie, crying. JULIEEEE!


	13. 14:Paying the Piper

**Stuck!**

** Chapter Fourteen: Paying the Piper**

A/N: To those that complain that I have been too mean to McKay by shooting him when he was already sick, this was a necessity of the challenge - blame not the Genii Guy! I may be ruthless, but I'm not THAT ruthless

[{O}]

The city alarms continued their deafening blare as footsteps pounded through the hallway and frantic voices demanded explanation in short radio bursts, but John ignored it all. His focus remained on the tiny body sprawled on the floor before him, his mind trying to wrap around what happened. He stared at the blood oozing between his fingers and the lax, unresponsive features of McKays little boy face.

What have I done? John whispered. What have I done?

Sheppard? Ronons deep voice bellowed from the doorway and, before John could answer, Dex made his way into the nursery, his weapon drawn and ready. Confusion knit the big mans brow as he scanned the room for danger. The Wraith? he questioned before his dark eyes settled on Sheppardand Rodney.

What happened? In an instant Ronon was at McKays side, squatting across from John. His hand seemed monstrously large as he gently touched Rodneys face. What happened? he demanded again, angrily.

John shook his head. There was a Wraith and then it was gone and

Sheppard! Ronons voice cracked like a whip through the fog of shock shrouding Johns mind. He looked up at Ronon.

I shot Rodney.

John watched surprise, denial and shock roll over Dex until it all melded into a cold, hard fury. With a low growl, Ronon shoved at Sheppard, sending the colonel backwards onto his butt. Ronons huge hands reached for Rodney. He tore the sleeve off the white shirt in one smooth motion, revealing a deep ugly graze across the top of Rodneys arm. It still bled steadily.

Its a graze.

Sheppard shook his head, not feeling any relief in Ronons terse statement. The Wraith was so real. I didnt know.

Ronon cast a threatening glare, warning Sheppard to stay back, and with great care he scooped Rodney up. With one arm, he cradled the limp child against his chest while using his other hand to clamp down on the wound to try and stop the bleeding.

John?

Colonel?

Elizabeth and Carson ran into the nursery breathless and panicked, still rumpled from sleep.

What? The horrified question died on Weirs lips as she took in the scene before her. John still sat on the floor looking beaten and rejected, staring at his blood-covered hands as Ronon rose slowly to his feet, the small boy in his arms.

Sheppard turned, realizing for the first time that Major Lorne was already there as well as a small contingent of his men. He hadnt heard them arrive.

What the bloody hell happened? Carson demanded, immediately heading for Ronon.

Ronon adjusted McKay, easily giving Carson better access. As he shifted, a small, reddish glowing device slipped from McKays pocket and clattered to the floor. John watched the red light dim as he listened to Carson snapping instructions back to the infirmary on what they needed ready and waiting for them. He looked up in time to see the Tardis soundlessly disappear. Standing right next to it, Lorne jumped, raising his weapon and stepping back.

Weir eyed Sheppard with a silent demand for explanations.

He needs to be back in the infirmary now. Carsons voice was filled with worry. I cant do anything for him here.

I got him. Ronon pushed past the others, obviously not about to give up his burden to anyone.

John stared after them.

John? Weir was still waiting, hovering over him with a look of grave concern.

Holograms. Johns voice sounded hollow to his own ears. He glanced to the toys that theyd been playing with only a few hours agothe good guys remained, while the Wraith darts had disappeared.

Holograms? Weir squatted beside him. Are you alright?

Sheppard looked at the small device on the floor and shook his head. I should have realized. He pushed to his feet, ignoring Elizabeths exasperated sigh.

Tell me what happened. For Gods sake, what happened?

For the second time, John heard himself say the words out loud. I shot Rodney. What had he done? He watched shock register on Weirs face and waited for her anger but her eyes merely narrowed.

You shot a Wraith hologram, she countered calmly, diplomatically.

I shot Rodney, he snarled, not letting himself find comfort in a mistake. He started for the door. Tell Zelenka to get his ass in gear. We need this fixed. Now.

John. She tried again to reach out to him.

He felt her hand brush his arm but he shrugged her off and turned away. I need to go.

[{O}]

Pain. Rodney woke up in pain. His whole arm hurt. It burned near his shoulder and ached all the way to his fingertips. He tried to move it to a more comfortable position but couldnt seem to move it at all. He guessed he was back in the infirmary again, he could hear Carson. Carson sounded angry. Had he done something bad? Was Carson mad at him?

Struggling, Rodney tried to open his eyes. He felt so tired. The lights were still dim around him but he could see those closest to him. He could see Ronon standing beside him, and Carson standing at the foot of the bed. They were focused on someone else.

Do you know how lucky you are you didnt kill the lad? Carson waved in his direction. You nicked him good enough as is. There was an angry clip to his voice. Be damned thankfully he didnt need surgery. Im not sure hes strong enough to

Carson was talking him and mad. Was he in trouble? Tears sprung to his eyes. Rodney knew he shouldnt cry. Big boys didnt cry; wasnt his father always saying that? The tears came anyway. He was scared and his arm hurt and Carson was mad and he couldnt remember what he had done wrong andSheppard! The Wraith. He sobbed and scrunched his eyes closed again. It was his fault. Hed been afraid and dreamed the Wraith had come. He was so scared he had forgotten it was a hologram. He hadnt told the colonel about the cool holograms. Carson was mad. Was Sheppard mad at him, too?

Rodney?

He opened his eyes. Carson stood over him. Youre okay. Its gonna be okay, Carson soothed, all anger gone from his voice as he wiped the tears from Rodneys face.

Want the colonel, McKay whispered groggily. "Please."

Hes here. Carson looked over his shoulder.

He mad at me? Rodney asked.

What? Carson seemed stunned by McKays question.

I forgot to tell him It was getting harder to stay awake. "Holograms. Made them..."

Rodney? And then the colonel was there. He felt a big warm hand wrap around his, and he tried to grab it back. Im not mad at you, Rodney.

Sorry, I forgot.

Shhh, its okay. McKay? Rodney?

Rodney knew he should try to explain how but he was just so tired.

[{O}]

John ignored Ronon's angry glare as he pulled his chair closer to Rodneys bed. Ronon had stood like a guard between Teylas and Rodneys beds for the last hour, but Sheppard wasnt about to be intimidated into leaving. Not now. Let the man try to throw him out! But John knew he wouldnt dare tryif for no other reason than because Dex had heard Rodney asking for him.

Crying. God. John ran a hand wearily over his face. Had they lost Rodney McKay completely? The small child before him was allchild. What were they going to do? Zelenka was trying his best, but the inside crystals of the device were virtually fried. If they didnt figure out an answer soon, they were truly going to lose both Rodney and Teyla. He glanced over his shoulder.

Ronon had given up glaring at his back and was now sitting beside Teyla again. She turned to face him. Her cheeks seemed even more sunken, her eyes were clouded as she gazed back at himlooking perplexed.

Damn, was she mad at him, too? How could he have shot Rodney?

Once Carson had calmed down, hed assured John that the worst thing they had to watch for now was shock. Beckett didnt know how shock might effect McKays already scrambled system, but insisted they just needed to watch him closely for signs of failing.

The look on McKays face as the bullet hit him replayed through Johns mind again, it would haunt him foreverlike so many other faces. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and John lowered his head onto the bed. What if they didnt fix this? What if Rodney died and the last thing he remembered was getting shot by his best friend? John sighed, and thought, what if my last real memory of Rodney is the moment I killed him?John groaned, unable to figure out he hed live with that.

And Teylahe allowed himself to look past Ronon, to see the Athosian again. What if Rodney were to die from this? What would become of her? Are Rodney and Teyla linked so that if one is lost, the other is forfeit as well? He grimaced, closing his eyes against that pain.

Rodney moved and John sat up again, searching for any sign of true consciousness from the small form. McKay frowned and stirred, fighting his covers.

Shhh. Youre okay, Rodney. John wondered if the child could sense their lies. His lies.

McKays eyes blinked open slowly. Colonel? he rasped.

Yeah, Im here. He amazed that Rodney could still want him around.

Tired.

Well, you got up a bit early, John reminded lightly.

You shot me. There was no accusation in the statement but Sheppard flinched as if struck. Rodney did remember.

Skay. Rodney searched his face as John looked down. My fault.

No! John looked up sharply. It was not your fault.

I forgot to tell you about the

I shouldnt have brought a weapon into a nursery.

Colonel.

I should have listened to you, should have thought about it before firing. I should have checked the life signs detector, asked the control room to check the biometric sensor, anything

Sheppard.

I should have The palm of Rodneys miniature hand resting against the side of his face froze Sheppard in mid-rant.

Stop. Rodney swallowed slowly as Sheppard met his gaze. Intelligence sang inside those blue eyes again. This was McKay.

I Sheppard tried to speak, but the hand drew back, to come back at his cheek in a light slap, cutting off any other arguments. Did you just slap me?

McKay grinned crookedly. "Yeah. Because you're being an ass. A life signs detector? Oh, sure, because that's what I would pull out if a Wraith were advancing on me. And trusting the guy in the control room's ability to use of the biometric sensor? I can hear it now: 'Oh, 'scuse me, do you mind not sucking the life out of me for just a sec while I confirm with George that you're actually here?'" The sarcasm was so McKay, Sheppard nearly hugged him, instead he just laughed. Rodney let his hand fall away. It landed on Sheppards forearm and John instinctively covered it with his own. And for a moment, Sheppard thought that everything was going to be okay.

Suddenly, Rodney gasped, eyes growing incredibly wide, and he tried to sit up, choking and coughing. Tears rolled down his face.

What? What is it? John panicked. Beckett! He hollered as he stood and tried to support Rodney. He heard Ronon trying to settle Teyla, but the Athosian was trying to sit upto see.

God, not now, not like thisplease

The biometric sensor, McKay caught his breath, dragging air in raggedly.

John pulled back. What?

Need Zelenka. Rodneys eyes were wide and alert, staring desperately at his best friend. Before I forget, he pleaded.

[{O}]

A/N: Thank you to those that try to cheer me with your reviews. They are the only thing sustaining me through this dark dark period. Julie is still gone. I saw a pile of poo near the door of the barn and I thought that maybe she had returned, but I think it was just one of the yaks coming by to eat the laundry . Those of you who suggest it is best that she has gone - you don't know her. You DON'T KNOW HER! SHE IS AN ANGEL among RUMINANTS! My life is empty without her. I have spent the past 24 hours curled up in a corner of the barn. Your reviews are the only reason for me to get up, stagger around and log onto my computer. If you wish me to continue, please leave a review. Otherwise, I will remain in the corner. OH JULIE! COME HOME!


	14. 15:From The Mouths of Babes

**Stuck!**

A/N: I have expanded the summary of this story due to suggestions from the audience. See, I listen! More reasons to leave me reviews!

A/N: I think EvieMay is right, the local Moofia boys may have had a hit out on Julie. She's gone into hiding! And you know, she's been turning an eye toward this bull that kinda looks like John Sheppard. I don't think I like that. Or maybe she's hit the road. She's had this crazy idea about visiting all the states in reverse order and visiting biker bars. There are no missing spoons. Hmmm... Maybe I'll bake a pie. Will finish reading my more recent reviews once I've posted this chapter.

A/N: My life is empty. The only thing that might make me whole once again is to receive more fine reviews from my fair readers.

[{O}]

**Chapter Fifteen: From the Mouths of Babes **

John called into his radio again, growing more frustrated by the minute when Dr. Zelenka didn't respond. The scientist apparently wasn't wearing his headset a habit shared by many of his colleagues and didn't hear John's frantic radio calls. Changing tactics, John called Stackhouse and Lorne, charging them with retrieving Zelenka.

Eyes closed, still shaking badly, Rodney drummed his fingers on the blanket, fidgeting and muttering softly to himself, repeating something over and over under his breath, as if afraid to forget itwhich was horribly likely. The tears continued to flow down the cheeks, unabated. At least he was no longer choking-Biro, covering for a sleeping Beckett, had already determined that it was just the excitement and his sitting up too fast that had caused that.

Dr. Biro continued to hover around McKay, trying to look patient, but at wits end as she attempted to examine the squirming boy. Dr. McKay, she tried to reason as she pulled the stethoscope from her ears, Dr. McKay, you really must calm down. This isnt doing you any good.

Rodney grimaced, and shoved back at the doctor when she made to touch him again, not budging her an inch.

Now, Dr. McKay, I know youre more comfortable with Dr. Beckett, Biro tried, putting on a tight smile that did nothing to betray her unhappiness with this fact. But it would be best if listen to me. Try to lie back and relax. Now, let me know that you understand.

Not answering, McKay shook his big head severely, and kept muttering.

Biro sighed, "But..."

"He can't. Not yet," Sheppard explained. Biro looked at the colonel who shrugged, seeming to understand McKay's refusal to listen to her. "He's coming, Rodney," the colonel reassured the shrunken scientist.

"Not fast enough." Rodney got out, as he continued his fevered figuring. He gave Biro a dirty look and ducked his head down again.

Uncomfortably, Sheppard turned to the doctor and said, Might be best if you stepped away from him for a bit. Hes not too easy around you.

Hmph, she muttered, trying to smile at the situation. Yes, I can see that. She made a little nod and said, I think we can let Carson sleep. This crisis appears to be over, for the moment. Call me back if you need me.

As Biro disappeared into the back of the room, Rodney opened his eyes and John could read the fear and confusion lurking in the blue depths, his hands slapping at the bed in frustration. "It's going away. I can't...Give me some paper," he demanded impatiently.

The only paper in the immediate area was Rodney's medical chart, so John decided it would have to do. "Here." He snatched the clipboard and a pen from the table beside the bed and placed them on the bed.

Rodney grabbed the items eagerly, but the pen fell from his stubby little fingersthey were shaking too much to hold on to it. His frown deepened and he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "son of a bitch" as he grabbed for it again.

A smile twitched on John's lips at the sound of such a phrase being uttered in a high, childish voice. The smile faded when he noticed Rodney's continuing difficulty with the pen. Reaching over, he gently plucked the pen out of the tiny hand.

Rodney stared at him, as if he'd been betrayed. John raised a hand to forestall the rant he knew was coming and said simply, "Dictate it to me."

Relief flooded the soft features. Rodney gave John a grateful nod as he began to speak, his voice trembling with emotion as he fought to keep the ideas in a coherent order.

Once he was finished, John asked uncertainly, "You sure that'll work?"

"I haven't lost all my faculties," Rodney snapped, his mouth twisted into an attempt at a sneer that he was simply too cute to pull off successfully. Now that it was down, the shaking started to subside, and the intense stare started to fade again.

"I didn't say that," John said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to be sure."

"It will work." Rodney looked over at the withered body in the next bed. "It has to work."

The frightened, pleading look on Rodney's face made John's chest tighten painfully. He swallowed hard and pasted a smile on his face, hoping that this idea would succeed. The alternatives were just too horrible to contemplate.

[{O}]

It was nearly fifteen minutes later when Dr. Zelenka rushed through the doorlaptop tucked under his armand skidded to a halt by Rodney's bed, looking much like a drunken cartoon character. John realized then that the diminutive Czech had probably not slept at all since they retrieved the device from the planet. He looked beyond haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair in even more disarray that usual.

"Rodney?" Radek asked breathlessly, cracking open the laptop and settling it on the edge of the bed.

"Hiya, Radek," Rodney greeted him, seeming oddly calm now, eyes blinking tiredly. The little boy almost appeared to melt into the infirmary bed, curled on his uninjured side. "You look like hell."

Waving a hand dismissively, Radek replied, "Is nothing. I have seen you look worse."

With a faint smile, Rodney said gleefully, "Guess what?"

Radek hesitated for only a second, glancing at Sheppard, before tentatively asking, "What?"

The smile became a smirk. "I know how to fix it."

Radek's eyes lit up, smiling back. "Yes? How?"

"Guess!"

The Czech's smile tightened. "Rodney..."

"McKay," Sheppard said, nudging the boy's back. "Just tell him." The boy grimaced, sulking a little, then grinned again at Radek, not hiding the smugness in his eyes.

"The biometric sensor array, dummy! Use the crystals from the console to replace the main biometric differentiators in the device on the planetthe ones Ronon exploded. They easily have enough resolution to isolate the different DNA signatures."

Typing madly on his laptop, Radek nodded. "Of course, Ja am blbec! I never even considered... But what about the secondary matter exchange? We've repaired the main energy conduits, but the crystals responsible for the transformation of the matter were also damaged. We've tried using the Gate's crystals, but the process is too different, as you know."

"That's even easier. You just...just..." Rodney blinked, and looked at him blankly. He blinked again, and his lips started quivering. "Wait, wait...I...I don't know." Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his chubby cheeks. "I don't remember!"

"It's all right, Rodney," John soothed. "I've got everything right here." He tapped the medical chart before handing it to Radek.

"But I don't remember!" Rodney wailed. "I had it! I knew it! I did!" He banged his tiny fists on the blanket, gasping in pain as the movement jarred his injured arm. "I wanna remember," he pleaded to the air. "I...can't...cant..."

"We will fix it," Radek said solemnly, looking as though he wanted to cry himself. He stared down at the chart, and shook his head. "Brilliant," he whispered, too softly for the still crying McKay to hear.

"Zelenka?" Sheppard asked, watching the Czech carefully. Radek lifted his head, and smiled at the colonel.

"It'll work," Radek said, nodding. "He got it." Sheppard closed his eyes in relief.

"Can't remember," McKay whimpered into his pillow, curling himself tighter. "Can't remember...wanna...'memmer...Colonel..."

"Shhhh." John sat on the edge of the bed, and Rodney instantly curled up against him, as if holding on for dear life. The colonel sighed and gently rubbed his distraught friend's backfeeling the heat radiating from him. "Take it easy. Everything will be all right."

Rodney's crying finally subsided into occasional sniffles as he leaned heavily into John, eventually drifting off to sleep. The colonel grimacedit was like having a furnace pressed against his side.

An exhausted Carson chose that moment to bustle into the room, wiping his own sleep from his eyes and frowning at John. "What's going on in here? I thought I told you to leave him alone."

Radek answered for him. "Rodney is upset that he cannot think properly."

Noting the death grip that the now sleeping Rodney had on the colonel's shirt, Carson's expression softened.

"Poor lad. He's had a hard day."

"I'll get started on this right away," Radek said quietly, giving them a pained smile before he rushed out of the infirmary as quickly as he had arrived.

Carson watched him leave, then asked curiously, "What's that about, then?"

"Rodney may have found a solution," John explained.

Carson raised a skeptical eyebrow.

John shrugged. "He was his old self for a little while. Long enough to come up with some ideas, anyway."

Turning a sad gaze on the sleeping child, Carson sighed. "Let's hope it was enough."

John gave him a grim nod.

"Where's his chart?" Carson asked, ducking his head to look under the bed.

"Um..." John gave him a sidelong glance. "Rodney wanted to write down his thoughts before he forgot them."

"So you used his chart?" Carson crossed his arms and scowled at him.

"It was all I could find," John said sheepishly. "And he was desperate."

Carson blew out a breath and shook his head. "Always the impatient one, our Rodney." He moved away for a moment, then returned bearing a large needle.

"What's that for?" John eyed the large needle with trepidation, reflexively tightening his grip on Rodney's shoulder.

"Antibiotics and painkillers," Carson explained. "His body chemistry is far from normal and I don't want to risk infection."

Grimacing guiltily, John had to turn away while Carson was administering the drugs.

Between the two of them, they managed to disengage Rodney's hand from John's shirt and shift him into a more comfortable position.

Rubbing his face wearily, John turned his attention toward the other bed, ignoring Ronon's silent glare as he focused on Teyla. She was awake and regarded him with kind eyes. "Rodney will be fine," she said, her voice little more than a hoarse whisper.

The regard he had for her rose yet another notch. Even in her own fragile, wasted state, she still expended her limited energy to make him feel better.

"How are you feeling?" John asked.

"How do you think she's feeling?" Ronon growled.

"Ronon," Teyla admonished softly. "It is not the colonel's fault. He is only trying to help."

"He didn't exactly help McKay," Ronon grumbled.

Teyla shared a look with John and rolled her eyes wearily.

John had to smile. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to see you much these last few days."

"It's okay. You're here now."

Sheppard nodded, settling in next to McKay, and then yawned spectacularly. At Teyla's soft giggle, he shrugged.

"Rodney's been running me ragged," he admitted, though he had no comment regarding the time he spent in the gym, ignoring both Rodney and Teyla.

"He is quite... energetic in this condition," Teyla said serenely.

John gave a short laugh. "That's an understatement."

Even Ronon snorted in agreement.

Teyla's reply was cut short by a harsh cough that made John wince in sympathy. He reached for the cup on the table by the bed, but Ronon beat him to it. It was odd, John thought, that the big angry grizzly that was Ronon Dex could turn into a gentle teddy bear when dealing with an aged Teyla or a toddler McKay. It was evident in his careful ministration to Teyla and his fierce protectiveness of Rodney. He never would have guessed that the brusque, hardened warrior could have a softer side. John nodded to himself, reassured that he had made a wise choice in adding the man to his team.

Teyla's coughing fit subsided and she leaned tiredly against her pillows, looking exhausted but not beaten. A defiance still glowed in those eyes, as she narrowed them in annoyance of her weakness. Then, with a quiet sigh, she closed her eyes and was asleep minutes later.

"I hate this," Ronon said suddenly. "I can't do anything to help them"

"Yeah," John agreed. There wasn't much more he could say, since he felt just as helpless, useless as Ronon was feeling. In most situations, there was at least something he could do, some action he could take. But not this time. John decided that it really sucked.

[{O}]

Carson returned an hour later, checking on the still-sleeping Rodney. John and Ronon moved closer to the bed as the doctor examined him.

Rodney was so still and quiet, a completely unnatural state for him. Especially lately.

"Is he okay?" John asked. The bullet wound?

"That will be fine," Carson replied. "It was just a graze. Only needed a bit of cleaning and a few stitches."

John gave him a relieved smile. "That's good."

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Carson suggested. He pointed at Ronon. "Both of you."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to stay a while longer," John said. "Just until the little guy wakes up."

Ronon didn't comment, but parked himself in the chair between Rodney and Teyla's beds.

Carson rolled his eyes and walked away, muttering, "...only a doctor, why should they listen to me?"

John pulled up his own chair and settled in for the duration.

[{O}]

A low groan roused John from his fitful sleep. He eased himself up from the uncomfortable sprawl into which his body had slipped, rotating his neck to work out the kinks. The groan sounded again. John stood and leaned over Rodney. "Rodney? You awake buddy?"

Rodney wrinkled his nose and moved his legs slightly.

"Wakey wakey," John said with a grin.

Rodney's response was to turn his head and vomit spectacularly on him.

"Gah!" John jumped away from the bed, plucking at his saturated shirt in an attempt to keep it away from his skin.

"What's all the commotion?" Carson said as he strode determinedly into the room. "You need to keep it down in here. They need their..." He paused, glancing from John to Rodney. "...rest."

Ronon sniggered at John's dilemma.

"Bloody hell," Carson said, heaving a much put-upon sigh.

"I think Rodney's feeling a bit... unwell," John remarked dryly, screwing up his nose as the smell  
started to get to him.

"Go, get cleaned up." Carson shooed him toward the showers. "I'll take care of Rodney."

John took the suggestion and started toward the shower at the other end of the infirmary, glaring at Ronon who was still smirking in obvious enjoyment at his predicament. As he stripped out of his sodden clothes, he heard a loud "Aw crap!" followed by a deep guffaw. A smile creased his face when he realized that the good doctor had likely just suffered the same fate. There was justice in the world, after all.

[{O}]

A/N: Wait! Wait! I finished reading my reviews! She left me feedback! Sweet Julie! She's at a Stuckey's in West Virginia? or Wyoming! No problem, they're not far apart, right? Coyotes? Julie! Your Kolya is coming! Guard your teats, my sweet! I will be there as quickly as the Winnebago will travel! Oh drat! Now you know about the surprise. Honest, my dumpling, it's the closest thing I could find to a Puddlejumper of our very own! BE STRONG! We will be together again!

A/N: Tipper, sorry about the vomit. I know you expressed displeasure in such things earlier in a review, but after your guys upchucked a couple times in the Ancient plants and Teyla barfed behind a console, I figured it was open season on puke. I did it for you. Oh wait! Julie! Gotta go!


	15. 16:Jack and Jill

**Stuck!**

A/N: I pulled over at a shop that sells coffee and allows internet hook up. It is named after a character from a Herman Melville novel. Why? I don't know. I continue my search for Julie. I am currently searching West Virginia. Wisconsin will be next. Julie, my sweet! Come to me! Woodchucks... IHOPs. Where? Someone please help my find my cowwwwww!

[{O}]

**Chapter Sixteen: Jack and Jill Went Up the Hill **

Elizabeth Weir hovered in the door of her office, watching Zelenka and a frantic team of gate technicians dismantle the biometric sensor array with the speed and efficiency of a NASCAR pit crew.

Every few minutes, her desktop computer let out a soft chime, letting her know yet another department head was weighing in with yet another wild theory that might or might not save Rodney and Teyla.

She ignored the e-mail alerts and turned back to Zelenka's team. From what she understood of the Czech's rapid-fire briefing, they were after the specialized sensors that allowed the city's scanners to differentiate Wraith life signs from human, or one member of the crew from another.

On the other side of the room, another group was sheepishly re-assembling the DHD. It had been worth a try after all, those crystals had allowed them to pry two consciousnesses out of McKay's body just a few months earlier. But after hours of frustrated testingand the messy demise of a small colony of white miceZelenka had been forced to concede that the gate control crystals were useless for this task. They simply weren't designed for this sort of matter transmittal. The Gate transmitted matter all at oncenot just part.

Rodney had, however, supplied the answer to that as wellthe matter transmission sequence could be effectively supplemented using the interface from the downed Wraith ship, which was more sensitive. Rodney's notes pointed out that it swept for DNA, not for objects, which was why it was able to collect just people as opposed to trees or rocks or whatever else it came in contact with.

And so it was Rodney to the rescue again. Elizabeth smiled sadly, still amazed that the pathetic little figure she'd last seen cuddling a stuffed cat in the infirmary still had enough of the old Rodney McKay in him to pull off one more miracle. Or at least let them hope for one.

There was a sudden flurry of activity and then the scientists were on the move, leaving the gutted sensor array scattered in pieces while they scuttled toward the exit with their salvaged crystals and components. Radek glanced back and gave her a distracted little wave, letting her know he would report as soon as he had anything to report.

Elizabeth spotted a crumpled bit of paper in the rubble and moved to retrieve it. Crouching, she smoothed the paper and studied the schematic for an elaborate bit of alien technology, painstakingly rendered in orange crayon. Around the edge of the page, orange kittens cavorted.

She carried it back to her office, still staring at the adult draftsmanship mixed with the untidy childish scrawl. The cats were little more than fat circle bodies, triangle ears, stick legs. McKay's cats beamed up at her with crooked, innocent smiles.

It really was very good work for a 4-year-old. The sort of thing a proud parent might tack up on the refrigerator door. Elizabeth propped the picture next to her computer and buried her head in her hands.

[{O}]

For the first time since he'd made Atlantis his home, Ronon Dex wanted to run. Run as fast and as far away as he could get from this infirmary and the smell of puke and the soft hiccupping sobs of a dying little boy and the slowing cadence of an old woman's heart monitor.

Instead, he paced, up one side of the infirmary and down the other, never letting McKay and Teyla out of his sight.

Sheppard was back, damp hair dripping on the collar of his clean shirt. Like Dex, he was pacing, but in the narrow aisle between the two beds. He held Rodney in his arms, wrapped in a large, pale blue blanket. The boy's head was buried in the crook of his neck as Rodney cried himself to sleep, now naked arms tightly wound round the man's neck. The boy's clothes had been soiled by vomit and blood and they had no clean replacements. Beckett felt it would be easiest to leave him au naturale. Sheppard, at first, was squeamish at the thought of carrying a nude McKay aroundwrapped only in a blanketbut even he had to admit that there was very little of Rodney McKay left at this point. The boy was only a sick childa child named Rodney.

The colonel walked him back and forth, back and forth, muttering bits of reassuring nonsense to the boy and to the withered woman who watched them sluggishly from the bed.

"Everything's going to be just fine," Sheppard was saying, whether to Teyla or McKay, Dex could not tell. "The Answer Man figured it out, just like always. Now you just need to hold on a little bit longer. Just a little while longer, guys."

Sheppard paused and reached out to encircle Teyla's bony wrist, shaking it lightly to get her attention. "Fight, Teyla," he said. "Remember? You promised me you'd fight this."

Teyla blinked at him, her hazy gaze sharpening to something close to alertness. She nodded, and breathed out, "Fight."

They stood there, like three generations of one family. Two days ago, they'd been his team. His family. Dex kept pacing. Fifty steps to the far wall, pivot right, and walk.

Sheppard gave Teyla's hand a final approving pat and returned to his own restless pacing. McKay was quiet now, and Dex watched uneasily until he was certain he saw the slow rise and fall of the child's ribcage. Apparently Sheppard felt the same fear his free hand now rested on the boy's back, rising and falling with each breath.

"Carson? He's burning up," Sheppard called out quietly.

The doctor pushed away from his computer and hurried over. Dex turned away and paced toward the farthest corner of the infirmary, not wanting to hear Beckett run through the long, long list of things that were going wrong with McKay's body and mind...again.

A heap of discarded objects on an examining table caught his eye. The trophies the little man had been carrying when they retrieved him from the storage room. Dex stared blankly at he pile of toys and curious bits of rubbish for a moment, then reached out to pick up one of the objects. It was a soft thing, shaped curiously like a yellow feline with purple spots. He remembered the little one clutching the thing when he arrived in the infirmary yesterday. One of the nurses must have taken it away from him while he slept.

The pacing began again. Another hard right and Ronon was heading back toward the beds. The stuffed cat dangled by its tail in his grip, bouncing off the side of his knee.

"Kiki."

Dex would have missed the soft call if he hadn't been listening for it. Wordlessly, he held the thing out to McKay, who was straining over Sheppard's shoulder, trying to reach the toy. The child's cheeks were flushed bright scarlet and his eyes were glazed with fever. But he broke into a delighted smile as he caught hold of the cat and tugged it down to snuggle beside him on the colonel's chest.

Dex could see very little of the old McKay in this newcomer. The sharp intelligence, the waspish insults, the nonstop self-congratulatory patter... all gone. And it saddened Dex more than he ever would have expected.

"Better, little man?" he asked solemnly.

"Better," McKay agreed, yawning as he snuggled even more deeply against the cat and the colonel.

For a moment, Sheppard and Dex locked eyes, then looked away and resumed pacing, in opposite directions.

[{O}]

"We have it!"

Zelenka's triumphant cry crackled over their headsets, startling them all.

Weir, who'd joined the vigil in the infirmary hours earlier, tapped her radio and spoke for them all. "Radek. Are you sure?" She looked up and found Sheppard staring at her with a worried frown. He was still walking with a sleeping McKay and the cat cradled against his shoulder. The boy had slipped into an unresponsive stupor, rousing only to cry whenever Sheppard tried to set him down or pass him off to someone else and rest his aching arms. He finally decided his arms could take it.

"As sure as we can be under the circumstances," Zelenka said, striding into the infirmary in the middle of the sentence, arms waving. "Please have everyone ready to travel in ten minutes."

"What? Where?" Elizabeth spluttered. Clearly, Zelenka had left a few things out of his briefing.

"Back to the planet! Back to the Ancient device!" Zelenka said. "The crystals work in laboratory testing, but we must reassemble the original equipment. The bulk of the device remains in the Ancient medical center. So..." He shrugged and gestured toward the exit.

Sheppard and Weir still looked dubious, but Beckett, who was fussing over Teyla's monitors, looked up with an expression of alarm.

"Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it soon," he said.

One of the bedside alarms went off with a shriek.

[{O}]

A/N: The young man with the green apron is urging me to leave. He has a ring in his nose. He doesn't seem to understand that I am a ruthless leader of the Genii special forces. I could break him like a stick. He calls me to the counter and gives me my third 'Caramel Macchiato, venti, breve, double-shot, extra carmel, extra whipped cream with a dusting of cocoa powder' and tells me, "You are frightening our customers with your glare and your vicious mooing." I go. The Winnebago awaits. GIVE ME MORE REVIEWS! Only reviews will help me find my cow!


	16. 17:Ticking Crocodile

**Stuck!**

A/N: I now know where my sweet Julie awaits. The Corn Palace is within my reach! But I require sustenance and I must pause. Because you have been kind with reviews, I shall post another section of this story born from an uncommon challenge. Strangely enough, I have found another coffee restaurant named after the character from the novel by Herman Melville. Image that! Two such restaurants with the same name and the same motif. I am also struck by the fact there is a hermaphrodite with that same name on a television show that appeared in both the late 1970's as well as the present. What a coincidence. Your comments are the only thing sustaining me on my journey back to my cow. That and the Macchiatos.

[{O}]

**Chapter Seventeen: Facing the Ticking Crocodile **

Carson was shouting. His people came running from all directions. Rodney, without waking, scrunched up his hot face, burying it against Sheppards neck as the colonel was forced away from the bed by the incoming medical staff.

This was all too much, John thought as he came to stand beside Ronon. Damn it, this was TOO MUCHwatching Teyla die of old age, holding onto a gunshot and feverous child that had once been McKay.

Beside him, Ronon fixed him with a discontented stare before returning his gaze to the activity around Teylas bed.

Coordinated chaos reigned at the Athosians bedside. Throughout the infirmary, noise dominatedclattering, shouting, monitors blaring their alarms. Teyla, for her part, said nothing.

The colonel and the former runner watched the fierce battle, unconsciously edging closer to one another. Ronon raised a hand to rest it on Rodneys bare back.

Sheppard had let the large blanket drape down, exposing McKays too hot torso. Whenever he judiciously tried to pull it up again, the boy whined piteously, squirming to get away from the oppressive covering. Sheppard let it hang, hoping his own body heat might be enough for the boy.

Watching as Beckett and his people worked over Teyla, Dex ran his huge, soothing hand along the small back. Rodney gave no reaction the comforting motion doing more good for Dex than for the insensible boy.

Amidst all the shouting and alarms, Beckett could be heard crooning to Teyla as he filled a syringe and injected it into the IV line. Come on, lass, keep fightin. Only a little longer and youll be comin back just like normal. Yes, our boys have figured out how to put you right.

Suddenly, Rodney shivered. Ronon pulled back his hand, and helped Sheppard bring up the blanket, careful of the childs injured arm. The boy burrowed himself deeper into the colonels chest, shuddering, now seeking warmth, snuggling the toy kitty between them. Once the coverlet was settled, Ronon returned his hand to the boys back.

Thats right. Thats right, Beckett kept up his litany. Come on back, lass. Thats right. Carsons gaze tracked along the monitors.

Watching, Sheppard felt a brittleness fill him as if something in him might break like glass. His arms, so tired from holding onto the child, seemed unable to move anymore. Ronon kept one hand on Rodney, but had stopped the calming movements. He seemed rooted, incapable of moving again unless Teyla moved first. Fight, Teyla, he urged to himself. Fight this!

Standing together, they waited as seconds clicked by, as Beckett kept his gaze on the monitors, keeping up a quiet drone of, Come on now, Teyla. You can do it. They heard the CMO release a relieved breath, monitors chirped happily, and they watched as Teylas eyes fluttered. Sheppard felt some of that brittleness ease. Ronon shifted his position, and started rubbing Rodneys back again through the blanket.

Teylas once warm, fierce eyes stared unfocused before her. Thats right, Carson kept at it. We have you back now, he sighed.

Father? Her voice was little more than a whisper.

Ach, no, Beckett returned quietly. Its Carson.

Carson she repeated, a note of confusion in her wisp-thin voice. Where am I?

Youre in Atlantis, Teyla, he told her, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. In my infirmary. Youre very ill, but were going to make you better.

Sheppard tried to smile at her, as she looked beyond the doctor her eyes tracking around the room where people clattered. Her roving gaze kept moving, not even pausing as it came past him. Starkly, she spoke again, I cannot see.

Beckett grimaced at this news. He gazed at the monitors againas if they might hold the key to holding her together. But, he knew that the problem wouldnt be solved herebut it had to be solved NOW.

She shouldnt be moved, he muttered to himself as he started to detach the equipment from her body. In her fragile state, I dare not take the risk. And he shouted to some of his assistants, specifying that needed to be packed for the journey. She cant handle the stress to her body. And he sighed. She really must be kept still! He glanced to the boy that Sheppard held, that Ronon stood protectively over. And Rodneys getting no better. He should be kept quiet in bed. He sighed again. Wed best go nowwhile they still have a little time left.

Someone was wheeling a gurney up the aisle, but Ronon stepped forward, cutting them off. Easily, he lifted the frail woman from the bed.

Who is this? Teyla asked in a thin voice as Dex held her to his chest. Her cloudy eyes roamed. One arm reached weakly, and grasped onto his shirt.

I am Ronon, he returned, his voice a low purr. Dont be afraid, he assured her. I swear youll be safe with me. I wont drop you.

Teyla smiled, her lips thin and nearly fleshless. I know, she said, feeling his strength and his warmth. I am not afraid.

Ronon turned and, not waiting for instructions from Beckett or Sheppard, strode across the infirmary toward the exit with his fragile and precious burden. Sheppard was directly behind him, clutching the ill child, not giving Carson the chance to check the boy one last time before they moved out. What good would it do anyway?

Beckett followed, muttering, We shouldnt be movin them. Not now. We shouldnt.

[{O}]

Ronon never broke his stride. The stargate had been dialed ahead of them, Zelenka and all of the scientists having already passed through. Thankfully the DHD had been reassembled and the crystals not needed, otherwise theyd be in dire straits. Dex nearly hurtled through the event horizon with Teyla in his arms. Sheppard stayed right behind him.

Stepping through the gate usually messed up the colonel a bitmoving from daylight to night, from warm to cold, from indoors to out. This time, Sheppard only worried about what the journey through the wormhole might do to their fragile burdens.

He paused on the platform when they reached the planet, checking the boy as Ronon continued without hesitation. He adjusted the child, trying to put him in a position that didnt hurt his overtaxed arms, finding there was little he could do to ease them.

Dr. Beckett came to a stop beside him, his face a knot of worries as Sheppard pressed a hand to the boys rosy warm, soft cheeks. Rodney offered no response. His face was lax, lips parted.

John let his hand remain for a moment, taking in the helpless face, then gave Beckett a nod when he was assured that Rodney was still with them. He turned before the good doctor could speak and started jogging in an attempt to catch up with Ronon.

As he cradled the boy against himSheppard recalled a few days earlier when hed run toward the gate just to annoy McKay. Rodney had complained and bitched about itdemanding to be let downwhining miserably when he bit his tongueblaming Colonel Clumsy Claws for everything.

McKay hadnt known the right way to carry a childdidnt know how to be properly carried.

God, was that only two days ago? It seemed like eonsback when McKay was McKayjust in a pint-sized version. Back when this child still resembled his friendhis best friend. Sheppard struggled, hardly able to fathom what had happenedwhat was happening.

And he realized that he missed his friendhe missed the old fractious, arrogant, bewildering McKay. He missed the old brilliant, witty, fiercely loyal man. The child was cute as anything but Sheppard was never a man who liked cute. He missed the OLD McKay. This was all a nightmare, he decided, one that he desperately wanted to wake up from.

Ronon was running now, carrying Teyla effortlessly as he darted through the little village. The locals gazed at them in wonder, saying nothing and stepping out of their way as the group raced through their town. Nobody needed to say a word to explain the urgency. Nobody needed to tell them to stay out of the way.

Behind him, Sheppard could hear Beckett huffing to stay with him, toting his medical bag. Ronon was pulling away, getting farther ahead.

John listened as Rodneys breaths seemed to be shallower. McKay no longer gripped at his shirt. No longer held tightly to the little spotted kitty toy that was wedged between them. His hands were lax his body like rubber.

Sheppard increased his speed, feeling the childs life slipping. They should have taken a puddle jumper but the distance wasnt that far and it would have taken precious time to get to the jumper hangar, to go through the launch sequence, to clear the gate, to land it in the clearing then to walk the distance to the Ancestors Hall of Healing. The difference in time would probably minimalbut Teyla would have been transported with a gurney instead of in someones arms. Yet, honestly, Sheppard couldnt think of a safer mode of transportation than under Ronons protection. And even if they had taken the jumper, Sheppard knew he wouldnt have set down the fevered boy. His arms might fall off from fatigue, but he wouldnt allow him that sort of restnot for a moment.

They ran. Sheppard saw Ronon reach the outpost. A couple of Zelenkas team members were waiting at the entrance, making encouraging gestures as their group arrived. Sheppard passed them a minute later, clamoring down the stairs with his bundle. Beckett, whod kept up the whole way, panted as they made their way through the hallways.

Rodneys breaths were coming in tiny gasps as they reached the hospital. Sheppard remembered how McKays eyes had gleamed with glee when hed first seen the placelike a kid at Christmaslike a damn kid.

He clutched the childfeeling too much heat. Nobody needed to tell him that McKay was dying. His light that had burned too brightly was nearly used up. Theyd have one attempt at fixing this. Neither of his friends would live much longer. John just hoped that Rodney and Teyla would survive the process.

The two had been strong and well the first timewho knows what would happen to them in their deteriorated states.

Here! Here! Zelenka shouted, indicating the two beds beside the arch shaped device, where mummified bodies once slept. Teyla will go here, the Czech indicated, showing the bed where the Ancient had been found. Rodneyhere, and he pointed to the Wraiths bed.

Ach, no! Beckett exclaimed. Youve got it backwards.

Zelenka shoved his glasses back up his nose. But we need to go backwards, yes? he exclaimed. This will be right.

But isnt one of the beams calibrated for Wraith DNA and the other for the ATA gene? Beckett asked.

Radek went into a terse response, letting his usually excellent English fall by the wayside, dropping articles and pronouns in his attempt to get his theories out in a hurry. Beckett furrowed his brow, not understandingasking more questions.

Ronon didnt bother listening to the argument. Trusting Zelenka, he eased the old woman into the indicated bed. Teyla smiled, appearing downright peaceful. Thank you, Ronon, she wheezed. Her chest heaved with each breath, as if it took every ounce of her once great strength to draw air into her lungs.

Beckett gave up with the discussion when he saw her distress, and crouched beside Teyla. Its gonna be all right, Teyla, he claimed, pulling a small oxygen tank from his bag. I trust they know what theyre doin. I do. He fitted the mask over her face and tried to ease her breathing.

Sheppard continued to hold the child, feeling as if his arms were growing numb with the constant weight. He watched as Beckett ministered to Teyla. Zelenkas team had finished their work, and the scientist was shooing them from the roomtrying to clear the space for what was to come. Johns eyes tracked along the machine's archit was blackened, with gaping holes, marred by the violence of Ronons weaponry. Would it work? Could this broken thing function again?

Dex came to stand beside him and followed Sheppards gaze. I wont apologize for firing at the machine, the former runner stated emphatically. Ronon took in the child, wrapped in the big blue blanket, breathing uneasily, fiercely held in Sheppard's arms as if the man were afraid to let him go. If the amount of time spent in that beam had done THIS to McKayimagine what another second might have done. He glanced to Teyla, watching as Beckett drew back to sit on his heels. Teyla seemed to be better with the oxygenher breathing eased, her blind eyes closing tiredly. If shed been in that beam for another second, what would have been left?

I wont apologize, Ronon repeated.

Im not asking you to, Sheppard responded.

The blanket had shifted, revealing Rodneys bandaged arm, and Ronon realized, if hed been the one to face the Wraith in that nursery, he would have reacted exactly as Sheppard hadperhaps with more violence. Dex couldnt help but think how much worse it could have been.

Now, Beckett said, suddenly getting to his feet from his position next to Teyla. He crossed the distance between himself and Sheppard. We dont have much time. Gently, he took the boy from Sheppards arms, tugging a second as Sheppard hesitated before finally giving him up. Rodney gave no resistance, limp as a rag. The stuffed cat tumbled loose, and Ronon caught it before it hit the floor. Sheppard's arms felt suddenly very empty, and he hugged them around himself to compensate. He felt so cold without the heat of the sick child against him.

Beckett carried the boy, feeling his pulse and grimacing at what he found. He settled the blanketed child in the bed, adjusting the blue material to cover not just the child, but most of the mattress as well, then paused to rest the back of his hand on the too hot forehead. As he withdrew, bright blue eyes shot open and gazed at him in wonder. Carson? the boy exhaled.

Rodney, Beckett said softly, smiling to see his friend awake, but worried at the intensity of his gaze. Were gonna put everything right, lad. He patted the boy softly on the chest. Dont you worry.

McKays pale features scrunched up. Sorry he said softly.

What do you have to be sorry about, Rodney? Beckett asked, crouching low to hear the quiet voice.

Was mean to you, Rodney whispered. Didnt mean it.

Naw, you werent, Beckett declared, remembering how McKay had pushed him away earlierwanting only the Colonel. He gently touched the boys head, brushing lightly at his hair. You just werent feelin like yourself, and the doctor paused at the irony of that statement.

Was scared, Rodney admitted, his voice so weak, it was barely a whisper. Sorry.

Aye, Carson responded. Were all a bit scared. Now, just give us a minute and youll be right as rain. Well get both you and Teyla fixed up in a jiffy.

Teyla? the boy searched, his fever bright eyes seeking the Athosian.

Beckett turned to the bed beside them, and nodded to Zelenka standing over her to carefully removed Teylas oxygen mask as the Athosian weakly tried to dislodge it herself. I am here, she responded, turning her blind eyes in the direction of the child. I am here, Rodney.

Dont be scared, Teyla, Rodney whispered, his voice trembling.

I am not frightened, Teyla responded, her lined face resolute. I trust them. And you were the one to provide the solution. I trust you. I am ready.

The boy nodded, clutching his blanket close to him and gazing up at the others in the roomhis eyes wide and frightened. Okay, he squeaked. Im ready, too.

From his position, Ronon declared, You are very brave, little man.

Rodney didnt respond, his eyes welling as he curled up on his uninjured side under the blue blanket. His terrified gaze sought Sheppard's one more timeneeding something from the colonel, and, apparently getting it when Sheppard gave him one single, encouraging nodbefore closing his eyes.

Sheppard looked away, no longer able to see his friend like this. He nodded to Zelenka and ordered, Lets do this thing.

Beckett stood, and approached the control board. Zelenka eased in beside him, pointing out controls, describing what should be done. Beckett just nodded, saying nothing. Then Zelenka scuttled back, getting out of the way.

With a miserable look, Beckett declared, Its now or never, unable to hide his discontent, his mistrust of the equipment. He glanced to Teyla, who was trying so hard to hold herself togetherto not give up the fight. He tried not to recall the mummified Ancient that had once occupied that bed; he tried not to draw comparisons between the desiccated body and his withered friend. He turned to Rodney, seeing the sick child clutching at his blankets, trembling and silently crying, looking frightened and alone.

Beckett had no idea if theyd survive this. His hand hovered over the controls as he fought with the idea that he might be about to kill them both. But they werent going to be able to continue living in this manner. This was their only chance.

He nodded resolutely and pressed his hands to the controls, watching as the system came alive. He moved his hands quickly and efficiently, following Radeks instructions.

The machine hummed to life and Beckett stiffened, remembering the last time. One beam shot out and found Teylas bed, another found Rodney. The twin lights scanned the occupants. Teyla pressed her head back into the pillow, giving herself up to the light. Rodney curled up in a tiny ball, whimpering in fear as he was faced with yet another terrortoo many terrors for someone so youngor even for someone as old as Dr. Rodney McKay.

The machine made a satisfied chirp. Sheppard tried to keep his eyes open, to see everything, to be there for his people, but there was a pulseblinding white light flooded the room. He flinched away, bringing up an arm to cover his eyes.

A child cried out in pain and absolute fright, as an old woman moaned in distress. Sheppard fought to seebut the white light enveloped everything.

[{O}]

A/N: JULIE! Time is short and I must away to the Winnebago! Wait for me, sweet sweet Julie! Your Kolyaaa is coming!


	17. 18:Return from Neverland

**Stuck!**

A/N: This posting shall be short! I am nearly at the sacred Corn Palace, but have run out of gas. I have paused to refill at a convenient convenience station, and have found yet another coffee restaurant of the same motif. The skinny slackers in green aprons are beginning to irritate me. But, they have internet connection and macchiatos, so I cannot find offence. I have but a moment to post and to continue my search for my beloved Julie.

[{O}]

**Chapter Eighteen: The Return From Neverland**

And then the room went darkabsolutely black. Sheppard found himself pressed with his back against the wall and he reached out in the darkness, wanting to find Rodneys bed, but clasped onto Ronon.

Sheppard? the former runner growled.

Yeah, John responded, not knowing if Ronon was simply verifying who had touched himor if the snarled name had been a warning. He released the man and reached forward, trying to find the beds. McKay? he called. Teyla?

A moment please, Zelenka announced and there was a click. The portable lights came back onfilling the space with their illumination. It was all too bright.

The first thing Sheppard managed to make out was Ronon, still beside him, holding a stuffed kitty against his stomach. They blinked, trying to clear their vision as Beckett muttered, Bloody hell, from somewhere in front of them.

Stumbling, Sheppard pressed himself forward, nearly colliding with Zelenka who was moving in the same general direction. Blinking away the spots that flooded his vision, Sheppard grasped Rodney's bed frame. He squinted, willing himself to see. Around him, people were shouting, staggering around the room.

There was something terribly dreamlike about all of iteveryone moved in a filtered, fuzzy world.

First, he saw the bed, and the heap under the blankets. Sheppard willed his eyes to focus, to differentiateand he made out the features on the face, the form, the size of the lump beneath the coversRodneyDr. Rodney McKay510 tall37 years old with a stubbled facegeniussleeping like a baby.

Quickly changing his gaze, Sheppard took in the other bed, finding Teylayoung and vital again her face unmarred by age. She was blinking at the ceiling and then pivoted her gazefirst seeing Carson who leaned over her, chattering away, trying to get her to answer questions. She looked around, catching Johns eye. Her smile increased.

Sheppard found himself smiling backrelief flooded him until he almost needed to sit down, holding onto the bed frame like a life preserver. Thank God, he thought. Oh Thank God!

Apparently satisfied with what he found at Teylas bed, Beckett switched sides, laying a hand at Rodneys neck to feel his pulse. The man didnt stir. Beckett didnt seem happy with that response. Rodney, he said softly. Rodney, can you hear me? Nothing. Rubbing one hand at his forehead, the Scotsman anxiously called, Come on, lad. Be a good boy and open your eyes for me.

McKay made a disgusted snort and grimaced. Wearily, warily, he cracked open one eye and served Carson a cold glare. If I hear one more be a good boy, I wont be responsible for what I do to each and every one of you.

Beckett let out a long sigh, releasing his pent up worry. Now, Rodney, no need for that. Weve all been plenty worried about you, he chided. You and Teyla gave us quite a scare.

Rodney grimaced, then looked abouthis expressive face showing off all his anxiousness. Teyla? he called, trying to sit up.

I am here, the Athosian responded instantly, her voice rich and strong. Ronon had come to her bedside and helped her as she forced herself into a sitting position. A proud look came to her as she managed the task with little help. One could almost feel the satisfaction rolling off of her, as she sat, regal and strong (with only a slight tremble) at the edge of the bed. When Ronon rested one hand on her shoulder, she covered it with her own. I am well. And she smiled.

The worry left Rodney as he met her eyes. Something was exchanged between theman understandinga sense of utter relief. He blew out a breath. Good good because He flopped back down on the bed, twirling one hand about. Ive been concerned. He finished. Glad to hear youre okay and not so old.

Her smile was warm as she leaned slightly on Ronon, and responded, And I am glad to see you back to normal, Dr. McKay.

Yeah, well, its good to be me, Rodney replied with a self-satisfied smile.

Guess someones gotta, Sheppard replied with a snap. No one else would want the job.

Im sure there are plenty whod like to be me, Rodney answered quickly. I am a genius after all.

Yeah, but look at the package? Sheppard countered. Think someone would really want to exchange what they got for the genius plus the rest of you?

Oh, thank you very much! Rodney snarled.

Youre welcome, John responded smugly, not even caring what was being said, just pleased to be chatting with an adult McKay again. Glad to know that youve grown up and learned some manners.

Oh! McKay started, and seemed annoyed that he couldnt come up with a comeback. Fine, just fine! he grumbled. Now, if youd just leave me alone. And he wrapped himself even tighter. A thought seemed to strike him, and his expression changed from anger to confusion as he messed with the blue blanketwhich suddenly seemed much smaller. Finally, the look changed to utter mortification as he muttered, Oh God, Im naked under here. He scrunched closed his eyes, as if to blot his audience out, as he tugged at the back of the blanket to ensure he was covered.

Come on, McKay, dont be shy, Sheppard shot back. Why dont you jump up and give us a show.

Yes, Zelenka added. It would be amusing.

McKay winced, revealing that perhaps he wasnt quite over his headache. No way in hell, he growled though his teeth. Why dont you all just toddle off and find someone else to torment.

Nope, Sheppard responded, making the word pop as he spoke it.

Rodney could only sigh miserably and turn his back on them. This is not happening this is not happening, he chanted softly to himself.

Sure as hell better be happening, Sheppard thought in return, just pleased as punch to hear the snarky responses.

The affects of his ordeal had McKay in its clutches and he didnt last long. His eyes closed and he was dozing again almost instantly. It took a lot out of a person to age from childhood to middle age in an instant.

Sheppard found himself grinninggrinning from ear to ear. Looks like things are back to normal, Sheppard stated.

Aye, it is, Beckett replied, too shaken up to appear as happy as the othersbut he did smile when he looked up and noticed Ronon still clutching the stuffed yellow kitty toy, holding it carefully to his body as if it were real.

[{O}]

A/N: There will be two more chapters, but I cannot remain here a moment longer. Julie! She is almost with me! Julie? Julie? The Corn Palace! I can see it in the distance. I can smell corn nuts... I hear the clatter of cloven hooves on pavement! Is that mooing? Quick! Send more reviews! Only the reviews will reveal her to me!


	18. 19:Home again, Home again

**Stuck!**

A/N: Bliss! Joy! Rapture! Julie! She is with me once more! I found her bloated with corn and wandering around the Corn Palace. It was a joyful reunion of tears and heartfelt embraces. Oh, my beautiful Julie! We are together! Never again shall we part! I barely managed to get her inside the Winnebago before the local authorities arrived. Of course, I was able to... ah... dissuade them from detaining us, but now we are on the run. On our drive, we have laughed, we have cried, there was milking and mooing. Never before have I felt happier, more fulfilled. Oh Julie, my life! The only thing that would make me my life more idyllic would be to receive more reviews from my readers. This was my first chance to pull the Winnebago off the interstate, refuel, empty mounds of manure, and visit yet the another of those profuse coffee restaurants. I have time to post just one chapter!

[{O}]

**Chapter Nineteen: Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig **

Should we get a puddle jumper? Zelenka asked from his spot on the floor leaning against the blast marred white wall. He sat with his head tilted back against the cool dampness with eyes closed. He kept his arms stretched straight across his bent knees allowing his wrists and hands to dangle over his feet.

Beckett sat beside the physicist curled forward with his forehead resting heavily against his crossed forearms. He merely grunted.

Ronon leaned against Teylas bed and stared from the two very different types of doctors over to Sheppard.

Sheppard stood with ankles crossed leaning one shoulder against the support beam adjacent to the head of Rodneys bed. His black t-shirt stretched tight across his chest under his unzipped jacket. He regarded the sleeping physicist, his eyes looking at the blanket tugged up around the bare shoulders. Rodney's bare feet stuck out of the bottom, despite Carson's earlier attempt to cover the whole bed.

Anyone bring shoes for, Rodney? the colonel asked, not really caring one way or another at the moment. He scratched at the back of his neck as cooling sweat evaporated from his skin.

Ah, no. His pink moccasins are still on my desk, Beckett muttered. Carson raised his head and squinted against the light and smiled. I was thinking of having them bronzed.

They werent pink, McKays disgusted grumble rolled peevishly from under his blanket. Sheppard grinned. Okay, so not quite asleep then.

Sheppard met Radek and Carsons eye, and his smile grew into a smirk as he addressed Rodney, They werent pink at all. More like a really faded maraschino cherry color.

Youre a laugh a second, Colonel, Rodney muttered, never opening his eyes. Dont quit your day job, McKay growled and then shifted his position on the bed. He moaned, tensing slightly and then settled down. Getting old is hell.

It is unpleasant, Teyla confirmed. She turned. I did not notice Dr. McKays pink shoesDid you get them from Kimon?

They were not pink, McKay reiterated, blue eyes opening to slits to stare balefully up at Sheppard.

They were more likerůov, Zelenka offered.

What is...?. Teyla stumbled over the word fumbling with the strange contortions of the harsh pronunciation.

The room fell silent and Radek sighed, slightly disappointed that no one understood his slight joke but understanding why.

Pink, McKay spat out irritably, still huddled under his blanket. He shifted a foot, pushing down the blanket to cover his bare feet.

Didnt know you spoke Czech, McKay, Sheppard stated.

I dontZelenka does, Rodney snapped annoyed that he had to point out the obvious, yet again.

Sheppard grinned, pleased to hear the arrogant fueled irritability back in McKays tone.

Rodney sighed heavily and curled tighter into the blanket, highlighting his adult frame to the rest of the room. Are we going to get a puddle jumper or not? And I need clothesI cant

Hows the headache? Sheppard interrupted McKays diatribe. The colonel turned his attention to Beckett who had gently lowered his head back onto his folded arms.

It's fine, but I have no clothes, McKays voice traveled out from under the blanket. I cant believe none of you thought to bring clothes, let alone shoes.

Beckett merely lifted a hand and waved it dismissively indicating he was fine.

Sheppard nodded and smirked, not believing it, but realizing there was not much that could done until they got back to Atlantis.

We had other things on our minds, Rodney, Sheppard explained, smiling teasingly at Beckett and Zelenka while speaking to McKay, like saving your ungrateful bare ass.

I am most grateful, Teyla spoke quietly from the edge of her bed, rubbing gently at her forehead. She looked up and stared at the small group of people in the room, to all of you.

Aye, thats because youre a sweet lass, Beckett offered a dimpled smile to the Athosian who sat stoically with her back straight despite the lingering pain that was almost guaranteed to be thrumming through her body. Ronon stood on the other side of her bed, hovering without hovering, and offering an air of solid protection.

You feel up for a walk, Radek, Teyla? Sheppard pushed himself off from his support beam with a twist of his shoulders. He dropped his arms from across his chest and smiled knowingly at Radek and then Teyla, waiting for the verbal explosion from McKay. The scientist had closed his eyes again, his lips pressed in a thin-lipped expression of annoyance.

It would be refreshing to be moving once again, Teyla smiled, flashing bright white teeth that contrasted brilliantly with the smooth, naturally dark complexion of her unmarred skin.

Zelenka grinned wearily and with a groan tiredly pushed himself to his feet. Itd be good to get some exercise.

Radek offered a hand to Beckett and helped pull the medical doctor to his feet. Becketts shoulders remained hunched and a hand automatically went to his forehead. Zelenka kept a steadying grip on Carsons upper arm, watching the doctor with some sympathy.

Wait, wait, wait, Rodney bolted upright, his blanket slipping from his torso to his waist. He dropped his left hand to grab at the sliding blanket but instead found himself bending almost in half, holding his head as his features became deathly pale. Ohhh, my head. He said it faintly, which, for him, was far more worrying than if he'd said it loudly.

Rodney? Beckett shook off Zelenkas arm and was moving toward the astrophysicist before he finished saying the name.

Beckett skirted around the bed to McKays side. Are you alright, lad?

No, Im not alright, McKay snapped, breathing deeply. He sat up a little bit, lowering his hands from his face and looking at them. Ive been miniaturized and de-aged and now zapped back like some freakish science project from a bad 80s movieso, no, Im not alright. Rodney shot a withering glare at the CMO.

Carson let loose with a long-suffering sigh and rubbed tiredly at his own brow. He missed the wee one already.

I dont hear Teyla complaining, Sheppard offered.

Thats because she has clothing, Rodney huffed, frustrated with the unfairness of it all.

All the men turned their attention to the Athosian, keeping their thoughts to themselves, though their expressions couldn't quite hide the fact that they too wished it was the other way around. Teyla returned their stares with a knowing smile, confident in her looks and her abilities as a warrior.

Right, Beckett quietly muttered, immediately dropping his eyes to his boots.

Um, not shoes, Sheppard coughed, covering some of his embarrassment at being caught with an active imagination.

Ronon stepped forward to speak but Teyla halted him, pressing a hand to his chest. I can walk back to the gate without shoes. I am fine.

Sheppard smiled triumphantly at McKay.

Well, howd I get here without clothes and shoes? Rodney asked in a plaintive voice. He was frowninghe meant it. He didn't remember.

Ahh, lad, youre getting too big for the Colonel to keep carrying ya like a wee babe. Its time you started walking on your ownlike the grown lad we know you can be, Beckett offered, sliding away from the bed and heading across the Ancient infirmary and toward the door.

Yeah, youre real sympathetic, Carson, McKay called across the room to the departing doctor. Rodney rested his still warm forehead in his palm and sighed, real sympathetic. The head twisted, to glance uncomfortably up at the colonel. "You carried me?" he asked softly. Sheppard shrugged.

"Yeah. You had to get here somehow."

Rodney's face pinched, and he looked away, covering his eyes with his hand. "Sorry," he said softly, not hiding his embarrassment. "That must have been...Sorry."

The colonel grimaced, then shook his head.

It was nothing. Come on, McKay. Sheppard stepped forward and raised a hand to pat Rodneys bare, pale shoulder. He hesitated before he completed the movement, noting the fine scant hair that curled and covered skin that had gone too long without sun. The lack of clothing was unnerving. Sheppard cringed and dropped his hand. Lets goquicker we get back, quicker we can get you all checked out and the more back to normal well be.

Like that will ever happen, McKay muttered under his breath, shifting sideways and drawing the blanket tightly around him. With a bit of work, he got it fashioned into a sort of long, blue toga.

The group slowly exited the one-time abandoned Ancient city and gradually filtered its way into the forest. Despite their protestations about being fine, Teyla, Beckett and McKay all walked a little more slowly than normal.

The off-world teams had stretched out, breaking off into pairs with the science group Zelenka had brought with him leading the way to the Stargate.

Zelenka and Beckett conversed quietly. Radek occasionally became animated and gesticulated wildly describing something or other in a fantastic and obvious manner. Behind them Ronon paced Teylas soft step. The Athosian tread with the strength and assuredness of re-gained youth, but her pace was slowed and softened by the tumultuous events of the last few days.

Sheppard and McKay brought up the rear, keeping the others in sight as they walked down the well-traveled, finely-powdered dirt trail. With each step, fine clouds of dust billowed into the air, caking McKays bare feet with an ever-thickening film of dirt. McKay had paled even further, muttering about tetanus shots, pin worms and other such horrid infestations when they had first started on their trip back to the gate, but it didn't have as much heart in it as it usually did.

No one paid much heed to the blustering and whining. Beckett had promised painful (albeit only possible) cures to Rodney's listing of ailments, all the while reminding Rodney there were no guarantees in medicine. Nothing worked one hundred percent after all. McKay's complaints eventually faded away, until he wasn't talking at all. Which, oddly, was worse. So, Sheppard started talking to take keep McKay's mind (and his own) distracted.

Im just saying, the next time you enter an Ancient city, Sheppard tried again attempting to keep his voice even and dulling the placating edge to his tone, try not to touch anything. He kept an eye on Teyla who walked confidently a few yards ahead of them with Ronon at her side. The colonel couldnt help but appreciate her lithe frame and Athosian attire which accented it, but even that didnt distract him from noticing the shortening of her stride and the delicacy in which she placed her feet.

Sheppard knew she still ached and hurt.

I didnt touch anything! McKay once again stammered, trying to keep his voice down and his blanket in place. Carson didyou should be talking to him! He touches everything.

Sheppard shortened his step, dropped his voice and quietly warned, Rodney.

What? Oh yes, yes, yes, fine. McKay harrumphed. Whatever else he was going to say was suddenly forgotten when a small whirlwind zoomed out of thinning forest that surrounded the small village and let loose with a gleeful giggle and latched onto McKays blanketed leg.

McKay staggered under the sudden assaultit had wrapped tentacle like arms just above his knee and its legs formed a vice-like grip around his upper ankle. A childish giggle emanated from the pint-sized lichen.

Oh no! McKay squeaked, Get off! Off! Off! Off! Help! He hobbled a step, trying to shake a leg and maintain his balance while keeping a tight grip on his dangerously slipping blanket. The toga's knot on his shoulder loosened, and he grabbed at it desperately to hold it together.

The small bundle wrapped around his leg, giggled all the harder at the fanciful footwork. The child clung tighter to his leg, causing McKay to flinch and flair about even more.

Colonel, do something! Rodney pleaded, trying to finagle a way to reach down and pry the child without letting go of his blanket.

Aw, Rodney, dont hurt the wee babe now! The amused thick accent floated musically up over the childish, gleeful squeals of the tiny creature that latched fiercely to McKays leg like a barnacle to the bottom of a boat.

Get it off! It might carry disease! Rodney lifted his leg and shook it at Sheppard trying to dislodge the tenacious creature with long soft brown hair and gap tooth smile. Go home! Shoo! Shoo! Dont you have a home? McKay looked pleadingly at his fellow Atlantians, Do somethingIts like vermin!

Yes, it is, Sheppard agreed, side-stepping and arching around McKay and his sudden, acutely acquired tibiofibular parasiticus co-joined twin. Sheppard gave the two a wide berth and shuffled past, careful not to tread on the quickly sagging and dangerously puddling blanket.

Keep it G rated, McKay, Sheppard warned.

Oh for the love of, Rodney grabbed for his blanket and cinched it tighter up under his armpit.

Much better, Sheppard approved and continued forward to the waiting foursomeBeckett, Radek, Ronon and Teyla all watched with amused expressions. Rodney followed, limping, shaking his leg and cursing like a drunken sailor who suffered a sudden, unexpected wind change at a most inappropriate time.

They walked slowly as a group, talking and bantering, with Ronon and Sheppard occasionally tossing looks back over their shoulder making sure that Rodney kept within a permissible and protectable distance as he argued vehemently with the moppet sticking to his leg, trying to get it to let go.

As the gate came into view the scientific team slowly walked through the shimmering puddle of light back to Atlantishome. Occasionally, people would look over their shoulders at the slowly advancing misfit group and its one lagging member. Some of the scientist would smile, proud at their ability to once again beat the clock and stave off another disaster and imminent death while others looked over their shoulders and grimaced at the raised, scathing voice of Rodney McKay as he struggled to catch up with his extended team.

The giggling, happy little moppet's voice overpowered the adult's the entire way.

[{O}]

A/N: A local official has parked his vehicle outside of the coffee restaurant. Now why would a police officer want to stop for coffee? I must escape before he sees me. I hope the manure problem hasn't increased. I fear it has. Tomorrow, you will find the final chapter. Until then, you will leave me more reviews. JULIE! I'm coming! Stop messing with the stereo!


	19. 20:Off the Roller Coaster

**Stuck!**

A/N: Julie and I have returned to our secret stronghold. The Winnie is parked under the big tree with the scary branches. The yaks are meandering on the steppes. The ass is back. Julie is once again in the barn. I am in the underground bunker beneath it, with about 20 gallons of coffee drinks prepared at that certain coffee restaurant. Have you ever noticed how many there are out there? All is right in the world again. I have stocked the barn with corn nuts, corn pone and corn fritters, and am still ebaying like crazy for diversions for my precious Julie. Life is good, and here is the final chapter of this story.

[{O}]

**Chapter Twenty: Getting off the Roller Coaster **

In the dark shadows of Becketts office, lit only by the dim lights of the outer infirmary, Sheppard fingered the faded, light red moccasins that sat on the corner of Becketts cluttered desk. Sheppard kept the lights off in Becketts office, enjoying the privacy and seclusion brought by the deep shadows, hoping to find a moment of quiet. He had immediately spotted the small right-footed moccasin on Carsons desk. The lack of the mate garnered his attention. He had found the left shoe on the floor under the desk next a pile of creased and worn genetic books and various journals. Sheppard had cringed at the titles as he picked up the shoe and placed it back on Becketts desk next to its twin which rested on a plastic box full of slides, next to curled small printouts of gel electrophoresis results. The colonel stared at the black and white tracings for a moment and then discarded them.

He turned his attention to the small pair of moccasins. McKays skull design caught his eyes.

He stared at the childish but amazingly fiendish skull that Rodney had drawn at some point in his time as a child. The Colonel stared at both moccasins marveling at the crudeness of the pictures but captivated by the intricate detail and near symmetrical precisionif one ignored the crude writing instrument that was used.

Sheppard quietly wondered who Rodney was trying to warn off, or if he had consciously been aware of even drawing the images.

He lifted the tiny moccasins and turned them over in his hand as his mind drifted back over the last two and a half days.

His introspection was interrupted when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He jerked around, dropping the shoes back onto the desk, allowing one to fall to the floor and partially under the desk back to its original spot next to a small ill-stacked pile of books and journals.

Colonel Sheppard? Dr. Biros amused voice had him spinning around like an errant schoolboy caught some place he shouldnt be. Not that he wasnt allowed in Becketts officeit was just he should have been out with his team, checking on Teyla and Rodney, maybe thanking Zelenka or speaking again with Weir. Instead, he had retreated to the privacy Carsons office, where he could watch the others from a distance. Things had moved and changed too fast, too furiously. He needed time to catch up.

I was, just, ahh, Sheppard stammered, trying to explain his presence without truly having to. He tried to avoid meeting the startling green eyes behind the thick lenses worn by the smaller, mousy pathologist.

To Sheppard, Biro had always appeared in the background, lurking in the shadows, comfortable within the deep recesses, content with her cadavers and tissue samples. It seemed she surfaced for only brief moments at a time then disappeared quietly into obscurity again with no one paying attention. It was as if she only flirted with the living when disaster struck, content to remain with the dead, unveiling their secrets unless a crisis drove her into the realm of the living.

Sheppard agreed with Mini-McKays assessment of Biro. He didnt think hed want to be in the infirmary with Biro working on him either. It just seemed like a bad ideabad karma foreshadowing. Nothing good could come from having a pathologist work on you while you still lived and breathed. It unsettled him.

How are they? Sheppard looked over Biros shoulder into the infirmary. The lights were dimmed to their night settings. Ronon sat in a chair absently swinging the stuffed cat back and forth by its tail. The colonel hoped the tail didnt fall off. It would probably anger McKay, though the colonel was sure McKay would never admit it.

They will be fine. Dr. McKay's chemistries and electrolytes are returning to within their reference values. His CBC is leveling back to normal, much quicker than we could hope for. The fever, however, has taken its toll and he is currently sleeping again. Biro smiled. The imaging is showing the return of normal morphology and structure. Dr. Beckett felt it would be best to let him return to his quarters, to familiar ground, but only if someone agreed to keep an eye on him periodically.

Biro sighed heavily as if the decision was not optimal. She figured Dr. Beckett caved to Dr. McKays persistent vocal harassment simply to find some quiet.

Sheppard eyed her. You dont agree?

I only don't agree because Dr. Beckett will not be the one doing the checkingI fear that will fall to me. Biro shook her head slightly frustrated with the situation. In pathology the dead didnt talk back to you. It was one reason she branched out away from internal medicine. If patients presented mute or without significant others, medicine would be so much more enjoyable. Biro sighed wishfully. Pathology and lesions were her niche; toss in a few virulent viruses and her world became perfect, intriguing.

"What about his arm?" Sheppard asked.

"The bullet graze? Barely a scar. It healed when his body returned to normal."

Oh. Teyla?

We are keeping her here, though she, too, has shown remarkable regeneration. Her tissues and blood work are vastly improved in the last few hours. Still, her body went through a more severe, debilitating degenerative state. It will take a little longer to repair itself, and the earlier difficulties with her heartwhen we nearly lost herwarrant closer observation. Dr. Beckett has decided it is best to keep her here under observation. She sighed again. Sheppard quirked a knowing smile.

Again, I take it you dont agree?

Colonel Sheppard, Dr. Beckett will not be the one tripping over that monstrosity out there swinging Dr. McKays stuffed cat by its tail, and he will not be the one periodically having to check in on Dr. McKay this evening. Biro sighed despondently again and pushed her heavy framed thick glasses back up onto her nose.

Where is the Doc? Sheppard asked, stepping away from the desk and staring through the glass at the beds cast under the dark shadow of the infirmary.

Headache, Biro answered, leaning over to pick up some of the loose papers on Beckett's desk, which Sheppard had dislodged.

Sheppard looked over his shoulder at the wild haired, unkempt pathologist. You knocked his ass out again?

She turned and gave him a superior quirky smile. I am treating his headache.

He know?

Eventually, yes. She smiled and pushed the glasses back up onto her nose.

Now if you would like, you and Mr. Dex and Dr. McKays stuffed cat may vacate the infirmary. In fact, I encourage it. She paused as she followed the head of Atlantis military and second most destructive force in the Pegasus galaxy out of her CMOs office and away from the microscope, computer and other expensive instruments that Dr. Beckett had managed to cram into his small office over the last few months. The last time Dr. McKay and Colonel Sheppard had been in Becketts office, they had knocked over two boxes of glass slides, scattering over 200 fixed specimens willy nilly across the floor.

If you want, Doc, Ill look in on McKay. Sheppard turned and smiled his most sincere grin. Thatll leave you with just Telya and Beckettitll make for an easy night. What do you say?

If it will get Mr. Dex out of here, and if you promise to report any difficulties or unusual behavior on Dr. McKays part, then we have a deal.

Sheppard smiled. No problem.

[{O}]

Teyla woke, stretching languidly within the confines of the infirmary bed. The lights were dimmed and the temperature was slightly cooler than during the day.

Biro shuffled over, trying to push her foot into her shoe while she walked, which had come loose. She crammed loose papers into her lab coat pocket while searching the area around the base of her neck for the stethoscope that lay folded in her right pocket. The pathologist/internist stifled a yawn.

Teyla watched the doctor approach with some apprehension. In the background, she saw Sheppard half pushing Dex out of the infirmary, the colonel glancing over his shoulder to give her a wink as they disappeared out the door.

How are you feeling, Teyla? Biro asked, smiling down at her.

Well rested. Teyla smiled pleasantly. May I go? She looked hopeful, wishing to escape the confines of the infirmary and return to the comfort of her own quarters.

Biro didnt immediately deny the Athosian a discharge. Instead, she smiled when her hand found her missing stethoscope and pulled it free from the pocket, scattering small scraps of paper to the floor. I was hoping, Biro started, separating the crossed ear pieces with a well-practiced single-handed move and placing them in her ears, that you would stay and perhaps, she paused as she placed the stethoscope diaphragm against the Athosians muscular back and listened for a moment or two, that you would stay and perhaps keep Carson over there, she indicated with her head to the still sleeping CMO on the next bed over, company. Biro had no intentions of arguing or making demands. She didnt have her colleagues natural charm.

Biro moved the stethoscope to the front of Teylas chest. Deep breath please,

Teyla complied. What is wrong with Dr. Beckett? She stared at the doctor who slept on his side, slack jawed, with a damp cloth placed over his eyes and a second one around the back of his neck. He still wore his blue and grey clothes for off world expeditions but his shoes and vest had been removed and a blanket dropped across the majority of his body.

That machine, because of the damage to it, still caused a backlashapparently no one thought to fix that aspect of it in their haste. Understandable, but unfortunate. It resulted in a headache, nothing deadly, just incapacitating. Biro switched to the bell. Please hold your breath.

Teyla stopped breathing.

Everything sounds fine. Biro stepped back and stared at the one time leader and protector of the Athosian people. She watched as Teyla looked at Beckett for a moment and then back to her.

Biro knew she succeeded.

I will stay. Teyla searched the rest of the room. Where is Dr. McKay?

Biro checked her watch and then smiled. Hopefully, Colonel Sheppard is checking on Dr. McKay as we speak.

[{O}]

Sheppard watched silently as Ronon headed down the hall away from him, disappearing into the quiet gray hum of Atlantis at night. They hadn't actually wished each other good night, an easy camaraderie allowing them merely a head nod as they turned in different directions, but the colonel slowed to a stop after a moment when he realized Ronon had carried the stuffed cat out of the infirmary with him. Turning in the hall, he caught one last glimpse of the big man before Ronon turned around a corner, Kiki still held in the powerful arms. Briefly, Sheppard considered whether it mattered to him that Ronon was keeping itthen decided it didn't. Whatever private reason the solitary man had for keeping the stuffed cat, Sheppard wasn't going to question it.

Moving again, he started walking towards Rodney's room, feeling more and more isolated as the corridors stayed quiet around him. Everyone was asleep. After the insanity of the last few days, it seemed odd. Quickening his step, he decided he wanted to get this visit over with quickly, so that he wouldn't have to think about it anymore...Wouldn't have to try and understand why he so much wanted to go back to the infirmary and steal those pink shoes and keep them safe.

Turning another corner, he found himself stopping when he spotted Elizabeth walking down another corridor. She was walking slowly, her head down, her hands clasped behind her back, and in them what appeared to be a picture frame.

Changing his mind, he turned and jogged after her, calling her name softly out of deference of the people sleeping in the nearby rooms.

She looked up, offering him a gentle smile as he reached her side.

"How's it going?" he asked, tilting his head, seeing the tension lines on her face fading a little. "You're up late. You okay?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine," she said. "Justit's amazing how fast things can change around here. You'd think I'd be getting more used to this sort of thing, but I don't think I am." She chuckled weakly, shrugging again.

Sheppard gave a small smile back, wondering a little at the echo of his earlier thoughts, and for a moment felt a little less alone. Elizabeth looked down again at the picture frame, in which a crumpled piece of paper with orange crayon all over it had been placed. Sheppard tilted his head some more, then arched an eyebrow as he realized that it was Rodney's schematic drawing.

Elizabeth shrugged. "Zelenka was using this when he took apart the biometric sensor. Looks like Rodney was already sort of thinking about it even before hisepiphanyearlier this morning. Radek said it was very useful in getting the control crystals to fit within the framework of the ruined machine."

Sheppard nodded, noting as well the stick figure cats and other random doodles along the edges. The work of a genius and a child. Something clenched in his gut, but he refused to acknowledge it, keeping the unaffected look on his face.

"Do me a favor," she said softly, glancing down the hall again, in the vague direction of Rodney's room, "don't tell him I have it."

He glanced at her face, noting the faraway look. "Why?"

She gave him a look, as if the answer was obvious. He shook his head.

"No, sorry," he gave a sheepish look, "That wasn't my question. I meant, why are you keeping it?"

"Oh, not sure. A reminder, I suppose," she gripped the frame a little tighter, "to never to let appearances deceive. To trust my people more. To" she sighed, "to not let my fear of dealing with the unknownstop me from doing my job." She looked down the dark hallway, as if feeling its emptiness. "Thing isI nearly killed him, John."

That shocked the colonel, his eyebrows shooting up. "What?"

"I warned you I don't handle children well, Colonel. I put him in that nursery to keep him under control, and perhaps to punish him a little. I felt like I had no means to deal with what had happened to him, and so putting him away felt like the best course. Let others deal with him. Kate. You. Carson. I kept my distance. Andhe was there all day. By himself. No one even brought him lunch, much less dinner. And did you see the state of it? What if he hadn't tried to escape, and been seen by Doctor Li? Then she wouldn't have alerted us, and we wouldn't have gone looking he'd stayed there all night, with no one checking on him..." She lifted the picture up, hugging it to her chest, her eyes shining.

"Then you wouldn't be the only one to blame, Elizabeth," Sheppard stated firmly. There was a bleakness to his tone that turned her head, and she saw the same guilt in his eyes. After a moment, she nodded.

"Perhaps. But, ultimately, I am the one in charge, John, not you. I should not have let my anger and frustration get to me."

John watched her a moment longer, then his lips perked up. "Truebut this _is_ Rodney we're talking about. You're not a saint, Elizabeth, though at times some of us think you must be to keep it all together. Just keep in mindRodney wasn't making this easy, and neither were the rest of usand by us, I mean, of course, me. I stayed in the gym all day, Elizabeth."

She stared at him a moment longer, then gave a tiny smile on her own. "He isa piece of work, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

She sighed, and held out the picture again. Slowly, she smiled some more. "Well," she looked up, and nodded at something in her head. "Thank you, John. I think...I just needed to hear that."

He snorted and gave her a genuine smile. "My pleasure."

"And the same goes for you as well, you know."

His eyebrows perked up in surprise. She gave him a knowing look. So much for appearing unaffected. She just knew him too well.

"Are you going to see Rodney?" she asked.

"Yeah. Biro wants me to look in on him."

"Tell him hi."

"I will."

She nodded at him again, then turned away. As she walked, her shoulders lifted a little higher, her stride more purposeful. Sheppard smiled.

He wondered if she knew that he had recognized the frame. It was the one that for the whole first year they were here had held a picture of Simon in it.

He was glad she had found something better to put in it.

[{O}]

Sheppard frowned at the empty room, seeing the tossed bed that suggested someone had tried to sleep there but had failed. It made him uneasy. Turning away, he walked down the hall to McKay's lab, but found that empty as well. The frown grew deeper, and he drummed his fingers on his thigh, trying to decide whether to alert the others.

Walking a bit further, he popped his head into the large room where Zelenka usually worked, which had puddle jumper parts strewn in corners and, of course, pieces of the Wraith ship taking up a large portion of the space. There was a desk lamp on over one of the tables, but no Radek. The engineer was asleep, no doubt.

Sheppard tilted his head when he saw that the laptop sitting there was also on, and smiled when he saw a digital picture of Mini-McKay sucking on his thumb as the desktop picture. HehMcKay would make Zelenka pay for that one. He needed to ask the Czech to email it to him. Turning, he walked out of the lab and looked aroundtrying to think of other possible locations.

Then a new thought came to him, and he found himself walking swiftly to the nearest transporter.

Moments later, he was walking down the quiet hall in a different residence section, staring at the pool of light pouring out over the top of the half door, trying not to think about last time he had been here.

Slowing, he reached the nursery entrance and just stared for a moment, watching.

Rodney stood in the middle of the room, fully dressed but with the blue blanket around his shoulders stillapparently, he had kept it. The scientist was looking around at the chaos. Bits of down and plush still covered everything, the black marks were still on the walls, and the closets in the room were all open and raided looking, intact and destroyed toys strewn everywhere.

Apparently, no one had been given the job of cleaning up this room. After all, what would they really need it for?

Rodney lifted a foot and toed the spent bullets that had been captured by the Wraith hologram, and which had fallen to the floor when the creature had disappeared. He looked a little bemused by them. In fact, he looked a little bemused by everything.

Sheppard opened the half door, nodding at Rodney when the scientist turned to see who was there.

"Hey," he greeted, raising a hand. McKay stared at him a moment, then frowned.

"What do you want?" It was not politely asked.

Sheppard's eyebrows lifted, "Well, that's nice. I come to check on you, Doctor's orders, and you bite my head off. Lovely."

McKay's eyes narrowed a bit, then softened. "Oh, you mean Biro. Hunh. She's not going to check on me herself?"

"Nope. I said I'd do it, because she looked like she could use a break. Though I'm rethinking that now."

McKay harrumphed, and turned around again, eyes once more searching the little room. He was obviously distracted, not responding to the jibe as he normally would.

Sheppard came up alongside, pointedly not looking at either the bullets on the ground, or the holes in the far wallor the faint red streak. Instead, he looked surreptitiously at his friend, noting the sheen of sweat on the forehead and the tight grip his left hand had on the blanket, which was trembling slightly. He may be getting better, but Rodney was far from well. He looked exhausted and still pale as a ghost.

"Still got a headache?" Sheppard asked softly.

Rodney didn't answer, just gave a small snort, as if the answer were obvious.

"You look tired," Sheppard noted. "Probably still a bit feverish, eh?"

The tiniest crease of annoyance lit on Rodney's forehead, then it disappeared.

"Maybe," the colonel shrugged, "it might be a good idea for you to go get some sleep?"

Rodney closed his eyes in obvious exasperation, then opened them again. Clearly, he wasn't going to respond.

Sheppard nodded, pursed his lips, and put his hands behind his back. For a moment, neither man spoke.

The colonel rocked back and forth on his heels, staring at the floor, just waiting.

Finally, Rodney sighed, and he indicated the ruined room with his free right hand. "I, uh, I did this, didn't I? Made this mess?"

A tiny smile touched Sheppard's lips, and he looked up. "Yeah." Then the smile faded as he realized what Rodney had just said. "Wait...you don't remember?"

Rodney shook his head, and winced a little as it obviously aggravated the headache. "No, not really. To be honest, I don't really remember much of anything at all after we left the planet that second time. Vague flashes of memory, but not much. Some things are clear, some aren't, and some things just dont make sense at all." He frowned, and the hand not gripping the blanket reached up to rub at his head. "Like...I remember a Wraith. But...that couldn't have happened. How would a Wraith have gotten in here?"

Sheppard's eyebrows lifted up high, and he cleared his throat. "Ah, well...it was a hologram, Rodney. You made holograms somehow. Some toy or other. Not sure where it is now." He looked around the room, wondering indeed what had happened to the device.

The scientist arched an eyebrow sharply. "_I_ made a Wraith? Why?"

Sheppard just shrugged. "Who knows what goes on inside that crazy melonhead of yours, McKay. Most of us just try to keep up, you know?"

McKay snorted, not missing the sarcasm. "Thanks."

Sheppard gave a wry smile, thinking maybe Rodney deserved a break. "Actually, I think you were having a nightmare. Next thing you know..." He shrugged.

McKay's eyes widened, then narrowed, as if about to retort that the idea was ridiculous, and then his expression suddenly changed, as a new thought obviously entered his mind. A moment later, his expression morphed into embarrassment. "Oh."

"Not your fault."

McKay frowned a little, then the eyes widened, and he looked accusatorily at Sheppard. "Wait, wait, then...Did you shoot me?"

Sheppard gave a half shrug, flushing a little. "Well..."

"Oh my God!" Rodney looked flabbergasted. "You _did_ shoot me! I thought I'd dreamt that!"

"C'mon, McKay, I was trying to"

"I can't believe you shot me! And you made fun of me for asking for a pry bar to get that thing off my leg?" He crossed his arms under the blanket, causing it to stretch a bit over the broad shoulders. "Your child-rearing skills leave a lot to be desired, Colonel."

"Child rearing skills? I was trying to save your life!"

"By shooting me?"

"There was a Wraith!"

"You said it was a hologram!"

"I didn't know it was a hologram at the time!"

"So how did you shoot me, if you were shooting at the Wraith? Even I know I didn't look like a Wraith colonel. I mean, how tall was I? Four feet? Less? When was the last time you saw a four foot tall Wraith?"

"About six hours ago! And he was a life sucking little twerp, I can tell you!"

"Oh, that's just wonderful. It's amazing I survived, with you around!"

"You? You were in hog heaven! I had to carry you everywhere! It was horrible!"

"You wouldn't put me down! You and those others, lugging me around like a sack of potatoes. I was a child, not produce!"

"Produce? At least produce is quiet! If I had to listen to that whiny, reedy voice of yours one more time"

"You'd what, shoot me? Well, no worries there, Colonel, you already did!"

"Well, believe me, I'm thinking of doing it again!"

"Oh, your just lucky there isn't such a thing as Social Services in the Pegasus Galaxy, Colonel, or else you'd be in deep"

"Um, excuse me?" A soft, female voice called from the doorway.

Both men turned sharply, McKay teetering a little at the abrupt move, but Sheppard caught him and got him stable. Standing in the doorway was a pink bathrobed young woman, blonde, squinting a little into the bright light. McKay thought she might be one of Beckett's researchers.

"Can we help you?" Sheppard asked, not hiding his surprise at seeing her there.

She blinked a bit, as if not quite seeing him, then nodded. "Um, yes. See, um, me and some of the others...see, we sleep down the hall a bit, that-a-way," she pointed vaguely to the left. "We, uh, we didn't get much sleep last night with all the...you know..." she looked at McKay, then back at Sheppard, "excitement, and so, we're kinda tired, and, um...," She grimaced. "Well, could you keep it down? You two are kinda loud."

Sheppard's eyebrows lifted, and he looked at McKay.

The head scientist's brow darkened, his eyes narrowing, lips twisting in a serious scowl. It may have been Sheppard's imagination, but he could have sworn he heard thunder rumble overhead.

The scientist in the doorway backed up a little, her eyes widening.

"Kinda loud?" McKay repeated, stressing the syllables in the words, his face turning an unhealthy shade of crimson. "Kinda _loud_?"

She emitted a tiny peep of fear, and backed up fully into the hall.

"You want to hear LOUD?" McKay yelled as he took a step towards the door, flinging his arms out wide, opening the blanket like a massive blue cape framing his dark clothes, making him look huge. "I'LL SHOW YOU LOUD! GET OUTTA HERE, YOU HARPY!"

She screamed and took off down the corridor, her slippers pattering away in a full run. The two men cocked their heads as she squealed a bit a moment later, followed by a soft thump as she obviously slipped and hit a wall, then she was up again and the running resumed.

As the footsteps finally faded, McKay leaned back on his heels and smiled, sighing contentedly, wrapping the blanket around him again. He glanced at Sheppard, who was watching him with a sly grin on his face.

McKay smirked shamelessly. "That was fun. I missed being able to do that."

Sheppard burst out laughing. McKay joined in a moment later, until he started coughing, hacking a bit as his lingering illness caught up with him. Still laughing, Sheppard hooked a hand under his friend's left arm and steered him towards the door. McKay allowed himself to be dragged, especially since he was still unsteady on his feet.

"Good to have you back, Oh Demon Lord of the Labs," Sheppard said, nudging McKay a bit and reaching up to rub affectionately at his hair.

McKay ducked out of the touch. "Don't you know it," he replied happilyif a bit wearily. Sheppard grinned again, stepping out into the hall, all thoughts of pink shoes forgotten.

McKay glanced one more time behind him at the nursery before following, his right hand fingering the hologram projector in his pocket, which he'd found on the floor. Looking up, he gave a mental nudge and the lights turned off. Then he followed his friend out the door.

And from one corner a quiet, but very annoying voice, muttered, "Beeda-Beeda well thank God that's over Beeda-Beeda."

McKay peeked back into the room, and Twiki exploded a second time.

And all was right with the universe.

**The End! **

[{O}]

A/N: There! It is DONE! The challenge that might have broken others has left me better, faster and stronger! I am KOLYAAA! Look upon me and tremble!... and give me more reviews. Seriously... I like the reviews.

A/N: To everyone who has showered me with your feedback, I thank you. You have been so kind (most of you - Wraith Sleep Tonight - not so much; and Ma, you really have to stop following me. I'll come to the harvest fest, but you have to promise me that you won't try to bake any pies. Really, Ma, I've tortured prisoners with less harsh treatment). To everyone, your words of encouragement have helped me during a dark cowless period in my life. I thank you from the bottom of my black heart. Now, the rest of you have your chance to shower me with praise. Do so.


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